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kayr0ss · 2 months ago

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Phishing Attack [Sulemio Fanfic]

[Gundam: The Witch from Mercury / GWitch, Sulemio, Fluff & Humor, post-canon, married, miorine is down bad, lmfao, self-inudlgent office shenanigans] AO3 Link

Summary: Unfortunately for her, Miorine falls for the IT department's phishing attack test email and has to go through GUND-ARM, Inc's mandatory security training. Fortunately for her, it seems her wife, of all people, was the one teaching it.

"Uhm—"

This poor kid. Miorine was going to have a talk with Nuno about this, because there was absolutely no reason for him to send the newest tech support hire to her office for something he could have emailed her about. She wonders if he and Ojelo placed a bet on whether or not he would do it. That wouldn't do. She'd have to give them an earful after all this.

Or, even better, she'd tell Lilique. No one liked to get on Lilique's bad side.

"Is everything okay?" She crossed her arms, trying to school her expression into something... nicer? It didn't look like it was working, because he visibly gulped.

"P—President! I'm here because you—uh. Email."

"Email?"

He looked down towards his feet, his voice barely over a whisper. "...test email that IT had sent out."

Miorine pinched the bridge of her nose, doing her best to even out her breathing. "Hey. It's okay, I don't bite. I can barely hear you."

"You clicked on a phishing test email! That—that IT sent out. Kargan-san told me, to tell you, that you have to attend mandatory training or else your email access was going to get revoked."

She frowned, eyes flitting to her laptop, unable to keep an incredulous huff at bay. Phishing email? She was usually really careful about this, when did she even—she paused.

She remembers now. Last night, while working late from home, she received an email from what she thought was a travel agency. She had been looking into booking a vacation for their family, and wanted to sign up for their newsletter and so she—oh. She clicked a link.

She sighed, deep and weary, leaning forward on her desk. "Thank you," she waved at the young man. "I'll go talk to Nuno."

He sighed in relief, said his greetings, and left.

"He looked terrified! Why would you do that?" She growled across the lunch table towards Nuno, who was holding up his tray in defense. "You could have told me yourself!"

"But how was he supposed to learn? Besides, it's a good time to work on rapport-building, for you!"

"That doesn’t make any sense." She slammed down her coffee mug, visibly irritated. "And also totally targeted. You knew that I was planning a vacation for us."

"What, did you think phishing attacks were just randomly cast nets? These things have gotten more sophisticated! Especially for C-suite individuals like you. Do you know what kind of cybersecurity liability it would have been if your email got compromised?"

"I know that!" Miorine groaned in frustration. "Fine, I'll do the training. But really? Revoking my email access?"

"Hey—you signed off on the ops manual yourself!"

"You have to set an example for following the rules, Miorine-san." Aliya laughed.

And she was right. And Miorine hated it. But she always resented authority who didn't play fair, so she was going to do her best to set a good example. She went back to eating, stabbing at her potato wedges with unnecessary force, making Nuno and Ojelo grimace with each stab.

"By the way," he elbowed Ojelo, who was dejectedly playing with his salad. "You owe me. I told you she'd fall for it."

"You two are impossible!"

"There's no way they got you too." Miorine deadpanned, looking at the only other person seated in the conference room. It had several long tables, arranged in a U-configuration, and had high-backed leather office chairs that rolled themselves back to place when you clapped. She thought it was a bit much, but... Nika liked over-engineering things, so here they were.

Nika smiled sheepishly. "They sent me an email for a parts sale. I clicked the link without thinking too much."

"A sale?" Miorine almost laughed. "Nika, your department has the highest budget."

"No, not for work—it was uhm. For mobile suit figures?" She twiddled her thumbs. "The little models I like to build?"

Miorine couldn't even be upset. She actually laughed this time (“They were full mechanics! I couldn’t resist!”). Everyone had their weaknesses, it seemed.

"So this is the training video we made for all the new hires, and whoever else needs it." Ojelo was setting the screen up. "It's about an hour long—"

"An hour?" Miorine slammed her palms on the desk.

"Yes, an hour!" He barked back, crossing his arms. "Obviously, since you two are here—our literal president and the person who designs all our prototypes—we need it! I can hardly think of two worse people to fail this test."

Miorine sighed, covering her face with her hands, because he was right.

"Let's just get this over and done with."

The holo-screen flickered to life, Ojelo waved them goodbye, and then Miorine's jaw dropped because—

[Hello there, GUND-ARM, Inc.!]

She knew that voice. It was only the title screen, without showing the speaker, but she knew.

Then the video feed finally came on, and she swallowed: it was Suletta. She was smiling sweetly at the viewer, wearing a business suit that had GUND-ARM, Inc's pin on the blazer’s lapel. She felt the air rush out her lungs, and jolted upright from her seat.

[Welcome to the first module of Cybersecurity 101! My name is Suletta Mercury-Rembran, and I—]

Miorine felt her mouth dry up because why?

She whipped her head towards Nika. "Why is my wife teaching the cybersecurity training?!"

She briefly remembers Suletta mentioning something about getting filmed for a GUND-ARM, Inc. video. It was quite a while ago, and Miorine figured it was just another marketing campaign, but she didn't realize that it might have also been this.

"I mean," Nika shrugged. "She is a literal teacher. I imagine out of all of us she's the most qualified to conduct a training."

Which. Okay. Fair—it made sense! But still—why?

Miorine ran her hand through her hair, grounding herself. Why did she look so good even on screen? Who's idea was it? Did she want to thank them or throttle them?

Why on this ridiculous Earth was she so goddamn attractive?

(A rhetorical question, for sure: she knew with absolute certainty that that was simply a truth of this world.)

[Let's start with the basics: What exactly is a phishing attack?]

[14:47 SEST] Nika : It kind of feels like I should leave T_T

[14:47 SEST] Ojelo: lmaooooooooooo

[14:49 SEST] Nika: please let me leave

[14:53 SEST] Nuno: I'm sorry but u are also literally a security risk until u learn this so u can't

[14:54 SEST] Nika: fml

It was almost impossible to listen, but also impossible to look away. Miorine put an honest effort into taking down notes, into remembering the tell-tale signs of a fake domain name and the most common typing mistakes made in phishing emails. They even had little quizzes in between that they had to take on their phone before moving onto the next section. Apparently, failing those meant having to take the training again and... and, well, that was both pleasant and terribly embarrassing.

At the halfway point, Miorine had crossed her arms, flushed deeply, and sighed.

"You okay, Miorine-san?" Nika poked her on the shoulder.

Suletta had just flashed another charming smile on screen, congratulating the viewer for finishing this section.

"She's so—" Miorine slowly tipped over, leaning forward, and planted her face on the table, muttering. "—pretty."

[Don't forget! Urgent language and unsecured links are really good tells! Are you feeling ready for your next test? Once again, please check your company phone's training app, and—]

Miorine pulled out her phone. She was so ready for this quiz. She had been locked in and could probably recite company policy backwards at this point.

Nika, for the fifteenth time within the past forty-five minutes, tried not to keel over laughing.

[Still there?]

Sang Suletta's sweet, whimsical voice.

[Thanks for sticking with it! Good job, we're almost through! You're doing great!]

Miorine had nearly snapped her stylus in half, blushing, but she powered on in the name of professionalism and—spite. For Nuno and Ojelo, of course. Not Suletta.

She checked her watch. They weren't kidding about it taking no less than an hour. She leaned back into her chair, unable to deny the fact that it was nice to take a short break from paperwork and checking spreadsheets all afternoon.

She had bolted out the room as soon as the training was done.

"Leaving in a hurry?" Sabina caught her haphazardly stuffing all her things into her leather folio.

"Yes."

It was a Thursday, which meant Suletta didn't have an afternoon class to teach, which meant she was already home by now.

"I'll call for the car, then." She hummed.

"Thank you."

Miorine almost forgot her keys, fishing them out her drawer before grabbing her coat off the back of her chair. It was probably windy, but she was in too much of a hurry to bother putting it on, instead bundling it in her arms with her folio.

Suletta was surprised to hear the jingle of Miorine's keys so early in the afternoon.

She looked up from the book she was reading, happy to see the front door swing open. She carefully got up, a smile on her face.

"Miorine! You're home early—" she stopped in her tracks. "You look mad. Why do you look mad?"

And—in the most confusing three seconds of her life—Miorine had pulled her in by the collar, gotten up to her tip-toes, and kissed her.

Honest to god kissed her.

"Whoa," she mumbled against Miorine's lips in a daze. She leaned forward a little, settling her free hand on Miorine's waist, bending down so that her wife didn't have to struggle reaching her.

Finally pulling back, Suletta gave her a hesitant smile. "I missed you too?"

"I clicked a stupid phishing email."

What? Suletta blinked, stupefied, wondering what that had to do with the fact that Miorine was shrugging her coat off and kissing her—again.

"An—" she took a breath "—email?"

"Yeah." Miorine pushed them towards the hallway, and Suletta awkwardly stumbled along with her. "How are you so—so—"

"Eh?” Suletta’s brows furrowed. “Me? What do you mean?"

“So…” Miorine had a frown and the prettiest blush Suletta had ever seen. "Beautiful. In the training video."

There was an almost-audible click in Suletta's head.

She finally put two and two together.

"Oh!" She gasped. "Oh no, they made you watch the training video?" She laughed. "That must have been funny. I was so embarrassed filming it!"

"I think you did great." Miorine was still pushing her, having kicked off her shoes now. She fished the book out of Suletta's hand ("Hey!") and placed it on the nearest table. "But I might have already forgotten the whole thing."

Miorine hastily felt for the door knob to their bedroom, swinging it open and pulling Suletta in by her shirt.

"Miorine!"

"You should remind me again."

fin

A/N:

Thank you to @saltypyrotato for once again beta reading this! You're the best broski! This is basically some self-indulgent office shenanigans that I can't help but imagine would happen lmaoooo

#gwitch #gundam witch from mercury #sulemio #miosule #miorine rembran #suletta mercury #fanfic #fluff #humor

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writingpei · 2 years ago

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lee know | 리노: fake relationship

tw: graphic descriptions of being stalked, physical abuse and trauma response

your job was driving you absolutely nuts.

it was tiring, consuming, far away and paid the absolute necessary for the rent of the small apartment you lived. taking several subways and walking a few blocks to reach the comfort of your home was not at all satisfying, the only thing that encouraged you to continue every day was the envelope stuffed with money that arrived at the end of each month and made it possible for you to survive in the big city.

life at the office had always been unpleasant, but now everything was stranger, a tense atmosphere hovering over your head that became more and more present. you felt like someone was watching you from afar, yet when your eyes ran across the room in search of the culprint, it was always a dead end, seeing nothing but the usual, but the feeling hammering in your head incessantly even so. maybe you really were going crazy.

this feeling lasted for weeks, until one fateful day. you were getting coffee from the pot for your boss, when innervation creeped through your body as it had many times before, a chill that crept up slowly like a snake up your neck. the only difference is that this time you caught him.

a tall young man wearing a well-seated suit stared at you from behind a wall, eyes glazed, searing your flesh. the shiver ran all over your body and the hand pouring the coffee into the "#1 boss" mug shook, spilling the hot liquid onto your hand. this caught the attention of the man, who walked quickly but calculatedly towards you, throwing an apologetic smile that crept across his face as if he didn't know how to smile and was copying someone he had seen do it.

"is everything okay? was it too hot?" he asked, and you took a step back on instinct.

"um... yes it is. it was just an accident" you answer quietly, still not daring to take your eyes off him, ready for the next reaction he might have. there was something really weird about this guy, but you couldn't put your finger on what it was.

"one second" he asks, but you just wanted to disappear from there. every second dragged by like hours and you were already scared enough. he reaches into his blazer pocket and pulls out an elegant white cloth that has probably never been worn before.

"here, clean yourself up" he held out the cloth and you just looked at him hesitantly. "take it" he says, losing the smile on his face and his voice becoming more commanding, his gaze darkening.

this time you catch it quickly hoping he'll leave you alone as soon as he does, but you were completely wrong. after drying off and running to your boss's office, hoping you'd never have to meet him again, you were just choosing to believe a comfortable outcome. what happened, unfortunately for you, was the opposite.

resigning was almost like a death sentence, you wouldn't manage to get a decent job in a long time and you wouldn't be able to pay your bills. at that moment, you just didn't know which was worse, to go or to stay. the only fear that compared with what you felt for him was the fear of reporting him to the company. he had technically never done anything to you and getting scrutinized and fired for misconduct in the workspace would forever tarnish your resume.

now it was impossible for you not to notice him everywhere, lifeless eyes traveling through the rooms always looking for you, the icy sensation that lurked through your soul every time you were in the same environment as him. you avoided him whenever you could, you only dare to leave your desk when he went to the bathroom, or when you needed to go to your boss's office you ran before he had the chance to get up and chase after you.

the tension just built over time and he took your evasion strategies with some humor, as if it were a game and you were playing hard to get. because of that, one day when you were asked to print some papers in the company's printer room, you knew you were fucked. it was in a very secluded place at the end of a corridor and was rarely frequented. your fake smile fell off your face dramatically when your boss gave you the order, but you just sucked it in and grabbed the pendrive he held out to you. maybe if you were discreet enough you could go unnoticed, but it was too optimistic a thought for the situation. the guy was a creep and was on your tail, he would be alert as soon as he noticed your empty table in the middle of so many others.

you made your way very cautiously, however much your hands were shaking and your breathing was uneven. the endless hallway was clear and you took long strides until you reached the little door at the end of it. if you were fast enough he might not even notice it in time.

you set to print the pages, looking around incessantly as if he would magically appear out of thin air. "hurry up, please" you whispered to the printer, praying that it would be quick.

you thought you were going to die when it made a choking noise out of nowhere, and then a second later it stopped printing one of the sheets in the middle. "no" you blurted out in desperation, slapping the machine in hopes of getting it working again, but it was still stuck. "no, don't go stuck on me" your hands were shaking more than ever, and in the middle of your heavy breathing, footsteps reached your ear.

"finally a chance to talk to you" and your spine froze. you could hear the creepy fake smile in his voice and his slow, hard steps coming towards you.

"the printer broke, I need to tell someone to fix it" you say and try to circle him to leave the room but he is impassive and stands in front of you, towering over. the proximity terrifies you and you're sure you'll have nightmares about the face he gives you. you take a quick step back in an attempt to put some distance between the two of you and he takes advantage of the act, taking one in your direction for each one you take to move away.

"no" he says coldly, losing the good guy posture he tries so hard to display. "now you're going to talk to me, you've run away from me too much" you wanted to throw up. "when are you going to go out with me?"

when he says that, a different smile blooms on his face, and you're sure it's his natural one, because it's brutal and terrifying.

"i can't" you manage to get out somehow.

"and now, why couldn't you?" he just smiles wider and shows his teeth more. "you will go out with me"

he takes another step towards you, and you don't know if it's just your head making you hallucinate or if it's the universe working in your favor, but you can see someone entering the room behind his shoulder.

a man with dark hair and white shirt sleeves with sleeves enters the scene, a folder full of papers catching the attention of his eyes and he takes a few seconds to look forward and see the situation that displays itself.

when he does, his eyes are intense and travel from the creep to you slowly, trying to read the room.

you waste no time running to him and hiding behind his arm, relieving yourself slightly by the distance created and the presence of another individual in the room. "i can't go out with you because i'm dating him" you lie, but your desperation makes your voice sound believable, and to add to that, you shyly hold the unknown man's arm with both hands. he's reluctant and looks at you in shock quickly, but something in his eyes makes it look like he understands what's going on and his muscle relaxes under your touch.

"bullshit, you don't date this guy" the creep seems to lose his cool with your attitude, nostrils flaring and eyes widening hideously.

"how do you know?" the man beside you asked in a completely calm voice, and it was your turn to be surprised.

your savior speaking directly to the creep only seemed to make him even more enraged, and the horrible eyes were glued to yours again.

"i've never seen you two talk, stop lying" he says.

"i..." you start to speak but your words are forced out of your mouth and your hands start to shake against the stranger's skin. "i..."

"i like to keep things professional in the work environment, so we don't interact here" he answers for you, tranquility intact. the creep was still fuming, terrifying eyes growing wider. he walks towards you aggressively, steps no longer calculated and silent, full of hate and nerve. when he gets close enough to hurt you, you close your eyes expecting the worst, but only feel your body being pushed slightly.

when you open your eyes you are facing the back of the unknown man's neck, who placed himself between you and the creep, and the protection of your field of vision that he provides preventing you from seeing the other man brings a coolness to your body.

"hey, hey, what are you doing man?" he says to the man you can't see. "get out of here before I call security, are you insane?"

now the stranger seems to have lost some of his temper too, and after a few seconds of silence, you hear quick footsteps leave the room and walk down the hall into complete silence.

you fail to let go of the man's arm at first, taking time to regain a controlled breath. when the oddly gentle feel of your skin against his is lost and you step back and lean against the wall to maintain the balance that your feet alone cannot give you he turns towards you, eyes still intense and calm.

"has this ever happened?" he asks but you're still recovering, eyes scanning his face warily, traveling from the bridge of his nose to his pale cheeks.

"what is your name?" you ask out of nowhere.

"minho. has this happened before or is this the first time?" he asks once more, not backing down.

"well minho, you just saved my life" you say. "it's not the first time, my life has been hell for weeks"

pushing yourself away from the wall, you take short steps to the damn printer, tearing off the half-printed paper, crumpling it up and throwing it away.

"you never reported him?" he asks behind your back and you just give a humorless laugh.

he seems to understand what your sarcasm means, and just walks closer as you try one more time to print your boss's stuff.

the printer gets stuck again and the strange noises start once more. even being watched by minho, you don't feel even an ounce of the fear you felt in the creep's presence.

"fucking hell" you whisper frustratedly seeing your work fail once more, and your trembling hands cover your eyes. it feels like the weight of what happened finally catches up with you and your eyes start to get wet behind your palms.

"hey, he is already gone, it's okay" minho says reluctantly in an attempt to comfort you, but the tears won't stop, and soon you're sobbing. at no time does he leave you alone, the low but constantly present sound of his breathing gives you security.

"listen..." minho speaks softly and his hand touches your shoulder with the weight of a feather, as if you would break easily with a slightly rougher touch. after a few seconds you take your hands off your face, wiping the tears in the process and looking at him with glossy eyes. "what do you think about going home for now? i'll talk to the boss, i'll tell you that you felt sick and had to go home" he suggests, his voice velvety and sweet as if he were talking to a crying child.

the idea of going home was too enticing, even more so the possibility of hiding under the safety of your blankets. however "i don't want him to follow me home" you say, real fear clouding your voice.

"don't worry about it" he says genuinely, hand still on your shoulder. "he won't leave the office. not with me here"

"really?" you ask, hope rising in you.

"really" he confirms. you walk side by side to your desk, where you collect all your belongings. the creep’s gaze burns your skin, and you're terrified now that you've made him angry. if before you were scared of him without having done anything to put you on his bad side, now things were much more serious.

minho takes you to the building’s entrance and you feel safe enough.

"minho" you call him when he is already going back inside the building. "thank you so much for what you did for me today, you really saved my life" you say in genuine gratitude.

he looks into your eyes for a few seconds, and a small gentle smile appears on his face. how could you never have noticed him before in the sea of white desks and dreary work light? "no need to thank me"

going back to work the next day was the source of all your despair. you were right, you had a nightmare about the ugly, scary face of the man who was always in your tracks, keeping an eye out for you, making you wake up with sweat running down your neck in fear. you were lucky that minho interfered in the situation, but perhaps that luck has run out and you have no way to escape.

the subway ride to the company building progressively made your hands shake more and more, and as you rode the elevator up to your floor you were already feeling dizzy.

however, what surprises you is that the lady who sat at the table next to yours and spent all day playing card games on the computer was no longer there, and in her place, minho sat comfortably as if that spot had always been his.

"minho?" you asked confused standing in front of him.

"oh hey" his attention is shifted to you, eyes kind and cool. "I asked to change desk. I needed to change up a little bit" he says and you sit at your own table.

now it was minho who wouldn't let go of you. whenever you went to lunch he would come along and sit next to you at your table. when you had to get coffee for your boss he always followed in your footsteps with the excuse of needing to stretch his legs a little.

being close with him, even if suddenly and under less than ideal circumstances, made your life at work bearable. you still felt the man's presence across the room, you still felt the sting of his hateful gaze on your skin, but now with minho's presence you felt constant security.

before long he was dropping you off too, walking you on the subway and walking hip to hip with you through blocks until you were safe and sound on your doorstep, telling you about sooni, doongi and dori along the way.

the nightmares have not ceased, quite the contrary, they have become more and more present as if your brain were playing a mean trick on you, abusing your limits. none, however, had been as bad as this one.

you wake up exasperated, sweat making your skin sticky. your chest rises and falls incessantly in ragged breathing. you count to 10 hoping to calm down but you can't. no light you turn on in the small apartment reassures you. it's 2 am and you don't want to disturb minho and wake him up, but your body aches for the comfort and security he provides, the tranquility of the beautiful voice that comes from his rosy lips. you don’t think you'll ever feel calm again without his presence, and it's driving you crazy.

in an act of pure selfishness, you open the messaging app and your fingers flick across your phone's keyboard fast.

you:

minho, are you up?

and so you wait, looking hopefully at the stalled chat, praying that he responds, that he gives you the relief of his presence, the joy of his attention. just as you start to lose hope that he's going to respond, a chat bubble appears in your view, and you can't ignore the way your heart races against your chest.

minho:

now i am

everything good?

you:

i had a bad nightmare

it's stupid, sorry to disturb you

i'll buy you the next lunch to make up for it

a minute goes by, then two, and you start to get scared that he's upset with you. you're regretting doing it in the first place in a spiral of overthinking when your phone starts ringing in your hand. minho is calling you, and you hesitate a little before answering. maybe he would scold you for your selfishness, waking him up late at night for something so silly.

"don't think about it" when you accept the phone call, the only thing that reaches your ears is his groggy voice, tainted with sleep. "don't think about the nightmare, everything’s alright, i’m here with you"

and then you can breathe again.

you no longer think about the nightmare, now your mind is intoxicated by his presence, which fills your head so intensely that it leaves no room for anything else. that's why you blurt out "talk to me, minho" after seconds of comfortable silence.

"what do you want me to talk about?" he asks softly.

"anything. let me hear you, please" you ask softly, cheeks reddening, ashamed of your own attitude.

"doongi slept on top of the fridge today" he starts to tell, giggling softly. "i was looking all over the house for an hour for him, i was going crazy thinking he got out somehow and got lost in the street, but the little bastard was just taking a nap up there. i don't even know how he managed to get there"

you laugh at the story but mostly at his dazed voice, the intimacy of the whispers in the middle of the night bringing a rush of heat through your body.

"now you speak" he asked, voice low but gentle, always careful with you.

"i have nothing to say" you admit, the only thing on your mind right now was him, and it would be weird for you to say out loud how much you'd like to be consumed by his velvet voice and perfume with a hint of vanilla that he wore over his dress shirt every day.

"what time is it now?" he asks.

"2:36 am"

"what color pajamas are you wearing?"

"gray"

"do you prefer strawberry or peaches?"

"peaches. why are you asking me so many things?" it's your turn to question, genuinely confused.

"i want to hear your voice too" he replies like it's obvious and you're grateful you're not face to face with him, because your mouth opens in surprise and your cheeks heat up in seconds.

"that was smooth, minho" you whisper humorously after a few seconds of silence, recovering from what he said.

"i know" he laughs softly. "is it working?"

and the shy, silent voices stretch out into the night, the stars dripping from the sky until the two of you fall asleep in each other's presence, unfinished call, synchronized breaths until the morning of the next day.

for the first time you don't feel apprehensive about going to work, instead it's an excitement that creeps up your body and overwhelms your mind. you feel like a teenager going to see your crush at school all over again.

and when he flashes a boyish smile when he sees you arriving at your table next to his, you feel your legs turning to jelly and butterflies in your stomach.

the day goes on as usual, lunch, coffee, trip together to the printer. you take any opportunity to touch him, his skin soft like you never expected anyone's skin to be. it was as if it was forbidden to have him in your hands and you would soon be expelled from the garden of eden for wanting what is not yours, but his presence, now more physical than ever, was too good to let slip through your fingers.

at some point in the day he gets more tense and you don't understand why until he turns to you out of nowhere, puts his hands on your swivel chair and turns you completely towards him. you blink a few times in confusion.

"listen" he begins, not letting go of his chair and keeping you in place. "a meeting of mine was rescheduled for tonight, a little later than your leaving time. will you wait for me here so i can take you home?"

“yeah” you respond. you would wait for him anywhere, anytime. “yeah, of course. i’ll wait here” and he smiles at you, that one smile that you like oh so much.

minho promised that it wouldn't be long, and when the time for the meeting arrives, you keep working ahead of the next day's tasks.

as time goes on you grow more and more wary, it's late and people are starting to go home, the big room emptying out fast, faster than you expected it would.

the feeling that you haven't felt for some time now began to make itself present, raising the hairs on the back of your neck. you look around and just feel a rising panic when you don't see anyone else at the tables around you, and you're terrified to look back and just see him. the one you've avoided all this time by hiding in minho's comfortable, safe shadow.

as if you were trapped in one of your nightmares, the sound of footsteps you know so well starts to sound like a flashback. this time you get up from the table and go in the opposite direction of the sound, through the labyrinth of empty tables. he starts to speed up behind you but you don't dare look back, you don't think you could stand the sight of the man once again so close to you.

your skin turns cold when you feel his hand gripping your shoulder like a claw and pushing you up an empty table, the touch full of aggression that was starkly different from the tender touch that minho had always spared you.

you instinctively lower your head to not look at him and it seems to burn something inside the man, because his calloused hand comes up to your jaw and forces you to look at him, another hand gripping your arm so hard you're sure you'll stay with bruises.

no physical pain in that moment was as unbearable as the sight of his face. he was possessed, eyes hungry and wide like a maniac. you were frightened, eyes filling with tears from the fear of what might happen. you were completely alone and it was the perfect situation for him, you were in the palm of his hand and nothing could stop that.

"please don't hurt me" you beg in a whisper, tears streaming down your eyes. his fingers just press deeper into your cheeks and he breaks into a cruel, transfigured smile.

"too late for that isn't it?" and you shake your head, sobs rising desperately in your throat. "you pissed me off!" he screams in your face and you squeeze your eyes shut. "you walk around this office practically begging me to pay attention to you, and when I do you embarrass me like that?!"

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry…" you whisper with your eyes still closed, begging him to let you go.

"now you apologize, don't you?" he says, hand going up your arm to your shoulder and shaking you hard. "i already told you, it's too late for this" you can't feel your cheeks anymore from the way he pinches them with his fingers, and you try to focus your brain on asking the universe to get minho out of the meeting, that somehow he realizes something is wrong and he comes to you. the tears don't stop flowing and you couldn't get him off you even if you wanted to. his grip is deadly on your skin.

"get your fucking hands off" the voice of the one you wanted the most makes you cry even more.

the man in front of him looks back quickly, strength in his hands diminishing in surprise. you take advantage of the seconds you have and use all the strength in your body to push him away, making him fall on the desk that was behind him the same way he did with you.

you immediately run to minho's side and up close, you can see the concern in his eyes. he holds you by the shoulders gently, creating a palpable discrepancy in how he touches you and how the man behind you has hurt you. "are you okay? your face is all red" he says, examining you closely, noting the fingerprints that smudged your face.

"i..." you started but turned back to look at the creep that was getting back on his feet. you take a step back in fear and your back collides with minho's and he steps in front of you the same way he did the first time you met.

minho however stands still, just looking from the man to you, from you to the man. after a few seconds he takes your hand and quickly pulls you towards the exit of the building at a speed so that the creep does not follow you.

"minho, where are we going?" you ask looking back constantly in fear of him just appearing out of nowhere behind you.

"my house" he answers firmly, and the path is silent. he sits next to you on the

empty wagon of the subway, hands holding your hurt arm tainted with the grip marks and wipes your tears with the tips of his fingers.

"I'm sorry" he says, sadness apparent in his voice. "I should have known, it's my fault. I'm sorry"

you approach him, touching your foreheads in confidentiality.

"I trust you" you say in a low but sincere voice. "it's not your fault, you always did your best for me. I trust you more than anyone"

minho's apartment was as small as yours, but in his there are three pairs of curious eyes that look at you suspiciously from afar while you are sitting on the minho mattress and he dips in the closet for something of his for you to use to sleep. sooni doongi and dori are as cute as they seem through his stories.

“here” he gives you a pair of clothes for you to feel more comfortable. “i’m going to be sleeping in the couch, you can sleep here” he points to his bed and quickly turns to walk away.

"um, minho" you call, feeling bad for making him sleep out of his own bed. "you can sleep here if you want, it's yours"

"oh" he opens his mouth a little but then shakes his hands in front of him dismissing himself. "the couch is comfortable, you don't have to worry, just rest" and he turns once again. tired of it, you get up and take it by the wrist lightly, turning him to you.

"minho, i want you to stay here with me. i want you to sleep by my side" you force yourself to admit. he widens his eyes slightly looking at you. the proximity between your faces is accentuated, you can feel his breath on your skin and this causes chills in your spine, your cheeks blushing by sudden sincerity.

this was arguably one of the worst days of your entire life, when the words simply come out as you plead for his presence you can't hold them back. you need him, the warmth and affection he provides, his heart of gold. only he can make you feel safe, and if you have the opportunity to drown in his arms that night you will take advantage of it. that’s why when he quietly asks “do you really want me?” you don’t hesitate in answering “more than anything”

when he lies in front of you on the mattress, you would think you were dreaming if it weren't for the pains in your skin that brought you to the real world. at first it's quiet, but his fingertips meet yours, and timidly his skins leans more and more on yours until he is holding your hand in the dark. his other hand makes a path like a snake and curls slightly around your waist, pulling you close, the heat you wanted, the intimacy that warms your heart so much. you fall asleep quickly, intoxicated by his presence, so close.

waking up the next day, you feel something hairy under the palm of your hand. strangely, you raise your head lightly and see that the place where minho was the night before is taken by three beasts, all in a deep sleep, webbed in your body.

"they like you already" you hear coming from the door. minho enters looking like he came from the street, his elegant clothes hugging his body.

“where were you?” you sit up, looking at him.

"in the company" he sits on the mattress right next to him, and his heart beats faster by the recovered contact, the heat that comes from him. "I'm friends with one of the security guys, he got me the video of what happened yesterday. i've already stopped at the police station too..." he says.

“you what?” you ask dumbfounded.

“he’s going to jail” he says and puts his hands on your cheeks. “you don’t have to worry about him anymore. he’s gone, it’s okay, i’m right here”

“minho, i…” you couldn’t take your eyes off of his even if you wanted to, those pretty eyes that pierced through your soul making you weak in the knees. “i can’t take you enough, i…”

“hey, it’s alright” he interrupts you. he breaks the eye contact and takes a glance at the way you look wearing his clothes. “now that i’m really looking at you, i really, really wish you could stay”

“stay? stay how?” you ask.

“stay with me, here. i really like seeing you first thing in the morning” he says.

your eyes travel to his lips, enjoying the warmth of his palms against your cheeks.

“i…” you begin, not being able to refrain from touching your noses, getting as close as ever. “i would really like that”

he smiles, getting even more close, lips barely touching.

“come on, give me a kiss” he whispers and you can feel the vibration in your own lips.

you waste no time in sealing your lips together, laying all your love on him.

skz as romantic tropes masterlist

#lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #skz #lee know x reader #stray kids #lee know x you #leeknow #straykids imagines #pei writes #lee know x gn reader #lee minho #i kinda hate this #hate it a lot #whatever

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knightprincess · 1 year ago

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The Mischief of the 501st (Oneshot)

Synopsis: Ever wonder what mischief the boys in blue get up to? Pairing: None Words: Just over 2k Requested by: Im Busy Sleep on Quotev

The war was tough; no one could deny it. If the constant terrors and trauma of the war itself didn't get to those on the front lines, then the traveling from battlefield to battlefield did. Being stuck on the same ships, surrounded by dura steel walls and grated or black shiny floors, greeted with the same colors of hyperspace and the same droids wandering the never-ending halls. The threat of danger looming around every corner, even when on shore leave.

There were some, however, who could brighten even the worst of battles, whether that be by telling jokes, speaking their minds at the most inopportune times, pulling pranks around the halls of the cruisers, or even answering questions with sarcasm. A few could impersonate like no other, whether of their commanding Jedi, random Civvi's or Senators, or occasionally each other. Comet from the 104th was particularly good at impersonating members of the Jedi order, both old and young. There has yet to be another who could beat his impression of Master Yoda. Waxer and Boil could beat the most when it comes to sarcasm. In contrast, Gregor could win over anyone with his flirtatious ways and lack of mind filters. If he thought something, it was guaranteed he would voice it, regardless of whether he ended up offending someone.

The Coruscant Gaurd didn't lack in humor. Although at first look, they appeared serious and as if they didn't know the meaning of fun, that was anything but the truth. Fox and Thorn were always in a playful battle for the grand prize of the best coffee mug. Thire could often be found dancing down the halls, especially on quiet days. Hound was always fussing the massiffs, throwing anything he was sure they would chase, whereas Stone, more often than not, was flirting with the senators or playing pranks on the rest of the guard. There was a tally in the main office to see who tripped over the most when out in the field, and Fox had an assassination plot going, although no one knew if he was serious about it.

But none could beat the 501st, especially for mischievous antics. The 501st were considered among the best troopers the GAR had to offer, alongside the 104th and 212th. Their mischief was almost legendary, even more so when their commanding Jedi, Anakin Skywalker, and his padawan Ahsoka Tano, would join in. It was almost a running joke among the GAR now. Wherever the 501st was, chaos and mischief would be close behind. Their antics away from the battlefield never seemed to fail to draw an eye roll out of Wolffe and get even the grumpiest bar hoppers at 79's to smile. There was no end to their mischief.

If one were to ask Ahsoka what her favorite prank or joke was, she'd always say there were too many to list. Anakin would say the most annoying by far was the helmet switch-a-roo, especially when it happened on the battlefield. Fives and Echo had started it; at first, no one noticed anything was up; both Arc Troopers had continued their duty as the other. But that changed when Obi-wan requested Fives to accompany him for something, and only for whom he believed to be Echo followed instead. Ahsoka had chuckled upon the pair removing their helmets to reveal Fives had indeed followed the instruction given.

Jesse and Kix would often switch helmets, although they did nothing more than that. Tup joined a few times with Hardcase, occasionally with Dogma when the other didn't pay attention. Rex had caught on eventually, although he didn't do anything other than shake his head and continue as normal.

Pranks on each other weren't out of the question, either. A few times, Anakin had walked into the barracks to find blaster holes in the walls and a pair of troopers hiding in the corner. When asked what happened, a list of things was given depending on the troopers. Jesse and Kix said once there was a fly with a bazooka, and Fives and Echo said there was a spider; when asked why they shot at it, both simply replied it had more legs than them. Tup and Hardcase said something about ghosts or some flying creatures, depending on how creative they were that day. Appo had by far been the oddest answer; he didn't say any creature or anything with a weapon, merely stating the force made him do it.

Ahsoka hadn't escaped the chaos either. Normally, the pranks on her were more playful and usually occurred around her birthday and Life Day. They would be silly things, like adding tinsel to her Jedi robes or baubles on the ends of her montrals. Other times, they'd wake her up by singing Happy Birthday or Life Day songs as loudly as possible, normally off-key. If, by chance, they were on shore leave when Life Day or Ahsoka's birthday rolled around, they'd simply com her with the pitchless songs or ask someone with technical skills to hack her communicator and datapad.

Anakin, on the other hand, wasn't so lucky. Armor and Helmet Switch-A-Roo were the tame jokes, as were the barracks ones. The troopers of the 501st weren't above playing the long game or roping both Rex and Ahsoka into helping. By far, their longest ongoing prank was the beeping devices. Several of them had been strategically placed, one in his barracks, another in the conference rooms, aboard his ship, in his quarts at the temple, and, of course, at the apartment he shared with Padme. The last of which Padme had placed herself. All the little devices were motion-activated and would send out a medium-pitched beep every few minutes.

The one in the conference room had also gotten to Obi-Wan, Cody, and Mace Windu. The three Jedi had been annoyed by the constant beep, even more so when they couldn't find its source. Cody had been, too, until Rex clued him in on what was happening. From then on, Cody, like Rex, would say he didn't hear anything when asked about the beep. The beep joke had gone on for almost eighteen months before Anakin finally found one of the devices.

Dogma was another who had been on the receiving end of jokes due to his determination to follow all rules and orders. Although the trooper had caught on quickly, it wasn't before he'd asked a few dumb questions to his commanding Jedi. After that, the jokes had been simple ones: hair dye in shampoo, wrapping everything in cellophane and tin foil, and occasionally, they'd gift wrap everything. Plastic cups of water or Jawa juice, all of them glued together to make it impossible to move on without spilling the others.

Dogma would respond in kind, normally by hiding one boot or blaster. Occasionally, on his daring days, he'd wake up after everyone had gone to sleep and put the hand of those who pranked him in a bowl of water before settling to sleep again. He'd always wake up with a grin the following day, especially if there were a round of swearing greeting him.

If you questioned if the other legions were safe from the antics of the 501st, then your answer was no. Fox and the Coruscant Gaurd had been caught so many times that they practically had a warning about it for new shinnies in the main office. Not to mention Jesse, Fives, and Echo had been put in detention so many times the trio had their own cell. The three had been arrested often enough. All Rex had to say when retrieving them was, "I'm here for my Arc Troopers."

Wolffe had been the victim of a few air horn pranks; normally, early in the morning, he'd find the one rigged to the refresher door. Hardcase was normally the one daring enough to slip a whoopee cushion or two in Wolffe's seat at 79's. To say the commander of the 104th had been tempted to throw the culprits from the highest skyscraper was an understatement.

Fives and Echo would also be the first to dare Gregor to do something. The Commando never turned down a dare or a bet, even when the results were disastrous. The flirty Clone had done everything; his favorite was the strip tease on the bar of 79's. Even more so when it had gone down in history, the story was almost legendary among the younger cadets.

Howzer, too, had been on the receiving end of jokes, as had Cody. Both had undergone changes to their armor more times than they could count normally when they were drunk. Thorn of the Coruscant Guard had also been on the receiving end of it. Normally, it was the color being changed. A few times, Cody's had resembled that of Clone Force 99 instead of the sunrise yellow he normally adorned. Howzer's teal normally changed to different shades of green and blue, normally accompanied by random doodles of hearts, smiley faces, cat ears, and anything else the trio of Jesse, Kix, and Tup could think of.

The Jedi weren't safe either, especially the other Padawans, when Ahsoka roamed the halls of the temple. The young Cal Kestis had his hair braided in a way similar to Quinlan Vos; a yellow strip had been carefully pained across his face, too. Caleb Dume had his robes switched out for modified clone armor, referred to as JP-8376, much to the confusion of the young padawan. Others had found their datapads had been tampered with or codes to their rooms had been changed. A few had been on the receiving end of things being glued down or gift-wrapped.

Barris Offee hadn't gotten away either, despite being Ahsoka's best friend. Her lightsaber had been replaced with dummy ones, the names of contacts on her communicator had been changed to random things, her cloak had been dyed a multitude of colors, and she had alarms going off at different hours of the night. Thankfully, the pranks never extended to the battlefield.

The Knights and Masters hadn't gotten away. With help from the clones who had a talent for impersonations. Several Knights and Masters had been set all over the galaxy. Young Knights had been set on wild goose chases around the temple and sometimes the senate building. Older, more experienced knights had been sent off the world or been told their lightsabers or Jedi fighter jets were being recalled for some reason or another. The masters had been convinced Yoda had new assignments for them, only to find the Grand Master and be met with confusion.

It took a while for anyone at the temple to realize Ahsoka and Anakin were behind the many pranks and confusion. Occasionally, they were helped by the Clones and Obi-Wan when he caught on, Plo and Quinlan helped on the occasions they were around during the chaos.

The Senators hadn't been safe either. With the normal culprits of the 501st switching out their blue-painted armor for the red of the Coruscant Guard, they caused havoc in the senate building. Anything from "escorting" senators places only to go the wrong way. Purposely mixing up names or singing the most annoying songs possible. Tripping through doors as a way to impersonate Rex's talent. Conducting random searches for "suspicious items", even causing lockdowns by tripping fire alarms or messing with the security system. They'd rig random alarms to go off at different times and play havoc with the droids around the mushroom-shaped building. By far, the favorite was playing bumper cars with the Senate pods.

No civvies escaped the chaos. If there were racing events happening, it was only a matter of time before the boys of the 501st appeared. Many times, there had been speeder chases or taxi jumping. It's been rumored Hardcase started a cult in the lower levels (although nothing has been confirmed). Poppers had been set off near 79's and other bars around the planet-wide city, and car chases had taken place when the Coruscant Guard had attempted to catch the rowdy lot. Every button on the elevators had been pressed, and trains had become another means of transport to jump to and from.

When the 501st are around, pranks, chaos, and mayhem will follow with havoc sprinkled in. No one is safe from the pranks and jokes the boys in blue pull, especially when Anakin and Ahsoka are around to throw fuel on the burning fire.

Knight Princess Masterlist

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keelywolfe · 2 years ago

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FIC: A Little Salty ch.1 (baon)

Summary: Edge truly believed the meeting was supposed to be the worst part of his day

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Humor, Established Alphys/Undyne

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

Years of practice made Edge an expert at opening his office door while balancing his laptop bag and travel mug. Janice was already at her desk, typing furiously, a half-empty coffee cup at her elbow. It was to be expected; today was Asgore’s quarterly State of the Embassy meeting and they would all be expected to attend for what was sure to be several hours of a boomingly enthusiastic and uncomfortably familial glut of information that could have been easily sent in an email.

Edge was already prepared with a double espresso added to his daily coffee order. It was one of the few times in his life that he regretted that his biological functions did not include trips to the restroom, and he allowed himself a touch of resentment towards Janice on that account, already knowing she would shamelessly take advantage of her own coffee consumption.

She was already draining her current cup, calling out to him as he walked by, “There’s a package on your desk, it’s already been cleared by security.”

“Thank you,” Edge said and managed not to glare as she poured herself another cup.

As stated, the package was sitting primly on his desk, a small box neatly wrapped in brown paper. The return address was not familiar and despite it being cleared by security, he opened it cautiously. Nestled in a thick layer of bubble wrap was a colorful metal canister and a thick envelope. He opened the envelope first; inside was a lovely handmade card thanking him for helping arrange a recent outing involving the children of New New Home. The assembly at the Ebott Elementary school with a carefully chosen group of Human children had been wildly successful and already the Embassy team handling the assignment was working on another. It was a delicate balancing act between the safety of all the children involved, Monster and Human alike, and the various articles released to the media were almost universally positive.

The gift was unexpected and rather touching, and Edge made a mental note to have Janice send something to the schools from the Embassy. Particularly when he inspected the cannister, whose label declared it to be a gourmet selection of caffeinated salted licorice. Any other candy would likely end up gifted to Janice, but salted licorice was a small weakness of his. The addition of caffeine was nearly scandalous, an indecent temptation, enough that he was more than willing to forgive whoever revealed his secret interests to the giver.

For the moment, he set it aside. Per their agreement with the Human government, all gifts, no matter how small, needed to be declared to prevent any accusations of bribery. Normally he would simply send an email to the HR department, but the meeting was very soon. He'd simply bring it along and show them, and if he took advantage of the extra caffeination, that would be his reward for staying awake as Asgore droned on about the agenda to further the growing bond with their Human neighbors.

It was likely to be his only reward, so he may as well enjoy it.

To his surprise, there was already someone in the meeting room when Edge arrived. Normally, he was the first there, partly to ensure his seat was the best possible, meaning it was near an outlet for his laptop adaptor and partly because the very idea of being late was anathema to him. It wasn’t as if people weren’t perfectly aware of the time the meeting began and had several forms of technology available to remind them. Latecomers were always treated to a hard look and suffered their due punishment of being left with the bran muffins. Early comers get the tastiest treats.

This time, Undyne was already in the seat Edge normally took, her boots propped up on the table as she slouched back in her chair.

“Hey, tough nerd,” she said cheerily.

"Why are you here?" Edge asked her bluntly. He set his laptop at the second-best location next to her, hipchecking her boots to the floor as he went to lay out a selection of pastries for the incoming participants. He did collect a cranberry orange scone for Undyne; as the first to the meeting, she deserved top choice.

She shrugged, accepting the scone reward eagerly and taking a large bite. Around her mouthful she said in a small burst of crumbs. “Meeting, same as you."

"Indeed?” Edge used a napkin to push her crumbs back into her allotted table space. “I ask because I am well familiar with our parental leave policy, as I was the one who approved it. And yet here you are, exactly where you are not supposed to be."

She was laughing before he even finished. “C’mon, a couple hours here and there ain't gonna hurt. You can’t be the only workaholic. Besides, this’ll probably be the best sleep I’ve had in three weeks.”

He had to admit she had a point.

She finished the scone in two more messy bites before pointedly wiping the crumbs into her napkin, then nudged him roughly in the ribs with an elbow. “Wanna see some pics of the little guppy?"

"Of course I do." He accepted her phone, swiping through several photos of a small baby sleeping in a variety of locations; in a crib, in Alphys’s arms, snuggled between them on a sofa. Barely past newborn, he suspected the child’s activity level was somewhere just above that of a sack of flour. He did not ask about the picture of baby nestled into what looked like a roasting pan, that was obviously some parental humor meant for the likes of Sans and Stretch. Pictures duly examined, he handed her phone back, "When is their naming ceremony?"

"Thinking the end of the month.” Undyne flicked through the pictures herself, pausing to chuckle at the roasting pan one and confirming her sense of humor was entirely too similar to those with lower class tastes. “Paps wants to help plan it."

Other people were shuffling in, laptops and large quantities of coffee in hand as they paused to survey the selection of baked goods before taking their seats. Edge watched their choices, noting the popularity of each item. Someday he was going to teach these people an appreciation for bran, but it didn’t seem as if this meeting was going to be his moment. He glanced at Undyne and said with a perfectly straight face, “I’m sure it will be very interesting with Papyrus’s help.”

Undyne snorted laughter. “Yeah, Al already vetoed any balloon sculptures this time.”

Likely wise, considering the monstrous centerpiece at the baby shower. Any further comment was stifled by Asgore entering the room, his bulk filling the doorway as he ducked inside, colorful flyers with the meeting agenda in his hands.

It was only years of practice that allowed Edge to stifle his groan when he saw it. This was going to be a very long day.

It was halfway through the roundtable discussion of whether the Public Relations department’s new quarterly goals met the parameters for the SMART acronym (Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Relevant, and Time-bound). Janice’s chin was slowly losing its battle against gravity as she jerked upright for a third time and Edge was idly reflecting that making the windows both unbreakable and unopenable on the higher floors was a cruelty disguised as a safety feature. Honestly, it spoke to the unfairness of the universe that teleportation was reserved for the skeletons who least appreciated its usefulness. That was when he remembered the cannister.

Caffeinated. Yes. That would be a gift that far outweighed any he’d given the school. As quietly as possible, he retrieved it from his bag. Undyne was still surprisingly awake, although perhaps that was her becoming accustomed to sleep deprivation, and she noticed the cannister in his hands.

"What is that?" she whispered, below the sonorous drone of Reginald as he went through the list of upcoming press releases.

"A gift." He turned the cannister to show her the label and her face lit up.

"Caffeinated salted licorice?” she hissed, “Hell, yeah, that's singing my song, crack that open, maybe we'll actually be able to stay awake and listen to this bullsh…very informative discussion."

“Good recovery,” Edge murmured and he opened the cannister.

If he’d had even the slightest inkling of what the can actually held, he might have recognized the sound from the beginning. The comical 'sproing' noise could have been pulled directly from one of the cartoons Stretch watched, immediately followed by the propulsion of some form of creature from within the can.

Instinct took over through shock as his state of being went from ‘excruciatingly boring meeting agenda’ to 'fight for your life or die'.

It took less than a split second for him to follow through with the battle protocols his brother had drilled into him since childhood; identify the menacing intruders, isolate them, and deal with them, with extreme prejudice. In quick succession all three were pinned to the wall, a jagged bone construct protruding from each, thrust deep within their fabric and spring innards.

His soul burned hotly in his chest as he panted, dropping to a crouch as he braced for a further assault. All too quickly his vision cleared enough for him to take in his attackers.

…oh.

Hanging limply from the wall was a handful of mangled toy snakes, all of them a cheerful, telling orange felt. Or were, before they’d been mostly shredded by his attack.

Sweat was stinging in his eye sockets as he slowly stood. The fierce pulse of his soul slowed, cooling to the numbness of ice as he turned to look at the table and the people sitting at it, all of whom were watching him silently, their eyes enormous. For the first time in his memory, Edge couldn't think of a single thing to say at a meeting.

It was Asgore who moved first, not to speak but to hesitantly clap, then with more enthusiasm as he called, "Excellent aim!"

The rest of the table slowly joined into somewhat dumbstruck applause, Undyne at his side hooting her approval, and Edge closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath as he forcibly tamped down the urge to murder his husband.

No, there would be no homicide today. Guilt was a far more effective punishment.

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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fullcry · 2 years ago

Text

"Hopeless" | Trigun Fanfic

DETAILS Trigun Stampede / Vash x Meryl / Oneshot - 2.6k / M

AUTHOR @fandomfullcry | FullCry on AO3

TAGS Drunken Shenanigans, Excessive Drinking, Humor

SUMMARY She was repressed, a lightweight, and easily baited; and, unfortunately for her, this was something Wolfwood—an avid connoisseur of whiskey and enjoyer of (others’) foolish behavior, learned early on in their travels together.

NOTES Inspired by this fanart by @tomboyyyaoi

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Meryl wasn’t a drinker by habit, but she had been known to indulge for the right occasions: Graduating from November. Her best friend’s wedding. Important office functions wherein toasts were involved. Being four feet nine inches tall and weighing a modest one hundred pounds, she usually kept it to one or two glasses at most—and always on a full stomach, as it didn’t take much to overdo it. Getting good and properly drunk, as Meryl had learned in university, usually led to having quite a number of regrets the following morning.

Because Meryl made terrible, terrible decisions once her inhibitions were knocked out.

At the root of this problem lay her tendency to repress. Her mother had always worried about that, always told her she needed to be more open and honest with her feelings, her wants and needs—to handle them in a more measured and thoughtful way. Repression would only lead to uncontrolled outbursts and emotionally-driven decision making—usually poor, and though she never admitted as much, Meryl always took that warning to be an understanding born of her mother’s own personal experience.

But Meryl was stubborn and didn’t listen to her mother, and developed the very bad habit of repressing things. Despite her mother’s warning, this usually worked out alright—at least when she was sober.

It was a bit of a different story when she was drunk, though.

In addition to being both repressed and a lightweight, she was also easily baited and, unfortunately for her, this was something Wolfwood—an avid connoisseur of whiskey and an enjoyer of (others’) foolish behavior, learned early on in their travels together.

When they stopped off in settlements for the night on their long journey east he would often entice the others into a drink or two and rib her until she was all scowls and steam, laughing all the while. It was usually good-natured, but Meryl was a proud woman with something to prove, and not taking the bait proved a challenge. Roberto was no help at all in these situations, and Vash’s attempts to diffuse the tension between her and Wolfwood was often too meek to do much of anything (though she appreciated the effort).

But, for the most part, Meryl had managed to keep the peace (and her dignity), as much as Wolfwood made efforts to the contrary.

At least, until Felnarl.

When they arrived in the small town, it was just as the population was settling into a large, town-wide celebration. It was the fiftieth anniversary of Felnarl’s founding, and every resident was out in the streets getting ready to celebrate. Whiskey and beer was passed around free of charge. Decorations adorned the buildings down main street. Fireworks were prepped for sundown and there was music and people laughing and dancing and chatting. Coming on the heels of a long day (and yet more bounty hunters chasing after Vash), All four of them were easily drawn into the relaxed, celebratory atmosphere.

Before she knew it, she was four drinks deep.

They were lounging in a booth in the Saloon and Meryl was giggling at the antics of a (very poor) juggler on the other side of the room when Wolfwood returned with mugs of beer for the lot of them, sliding each across the table.

“Cheers!” he shouted above the din of the Saloon, and Meryl gripped her fresh mug with a wide smile, raising it to toast with the boys’. She took a big swig, eyes roving the room, and noticed as a working girl came out of the back alongside her John, fanning herself as she took up position along the wall, scanning the room for her next customer. When she spotted their table of three seemingly unattached men, she gave a wink. She clearly wasn’t the only one to notice the woman, as a moment later Roberto downed the rest of his mug and stood, sliding out of the bench and walking over with a bit of a wobble in his stride. She had no idea how many drinks he’d had, but it was doubtless too many even for him.

Wolfwood snickered, and Meryl picked up a peanut from the bowl of nuts and hurled it across the room, missing her target by a good three feet.

“Gross Roberto!” she called out.

Wolfwood clucked his tongue at her.

“Now, now, little miss repressed, don’t go judging a man just because he has needs.”

She scoffed, taking a swig of her beer. “’Scuse you, I am not repressed! And he is not a man with needs, he’s a horny old drunk.”

Vash snorted into his mug. Wolfwood stared at her flatly.

“There you go again, being judgmental. He—“

Across the room there was a loud thump and Meryl’s attention turned from her drink to find Roberto slumped on the floor just outside one of the Saloon bedrooms, the working girl looking down at him with despairing exasperation. Meryl began to cackle, falling onto the table with the force of her laughter.

“Oh my god! He passed out on her!”

Vash chuckled quietly, and Wolfwood shook his head.

“Poor bastard. Well, he tried, I guess.”

Meryl snorted and took another swig.

“Back to you, though,” Wolfwood said with a mischievous smirk, “When even was the last time you had sex, huh?”

Her face flamed and her mouth fell open. She moved her lips but words took their sweet time coming out.

“I—that—you… that’s none of your business!”

Vash, for his part, tipped back his mug and took a swig before turning a drunken grin on Wolfwood.

“When was the last time you had sex, Wolfwood?”

Wolfwood frowned, then slammed his mug down on the table.

“Too long, frankly,” he answered theatrically before his gaze turned to Meryl and he jabbed a thumb at his chest, “but at least I know what I want and can be honest about it.”

Meryl rolled her eyes, feeling a bit irritated by the heat still suffusing her cheeks.

“’M not repressed,” she huffed, crossing her arms stubbornly. Wolfwood eyed her a moment before he grinned.

“Oh yeah? Prove it.”

She glowered at him, feeling that persistent need to prove herself—that stubbornness she was so well known for, simmer beneath the surface. Had she been in her right mind she probably would have realized this was just another instance of him trying to get a rise out of her for his own amusement. But she wasn’t in her right mind, and at the moment proving him wrong seemed like the best idea, actually.

She glanced first at Wolfwood, then at Vash, and an idea struck her. She slammed her beer on the table and hauled herself up off the bench and onto the tabletop, crawling across it toward Vash who watched her with wide eyes.

“W-what are you—“

She silenced him with her lips, hand tight at his collar as she pulled him towards her. She kissed him sloppily but with fervor, tasting the whiskey and ale and peanuts on his breath. When she finally pulled away he was staring at her with wide eyes and pink cheeks, and she dimly heard Wolfwood whistle and clap as she clambered back into the bench, staring up at the undertaker defiantly.

“Alright, you win this round reporter girl,” he said with a grin. He glanced to Vash who hadn’t moved from his stunned stupor and gave him a slap on the back.

“First to score points tonight, Needle-Noggin’! Congrats, buddy!”

Meryl reached for her mug and took several large fortifying gulps as Wolfwood stood, finishing off his own drink before setting it on the table.

“I’m gonna go get Uncle Downer before the poor bastard gets stepped on,” he said, giving Meryl a pointed, teasing grin. “You kids behave while I’m gone.”

Then he turned and made his way across the room, squeezing between gaps in the crowd to reach the slumped over reporter by the bedroom doors.

Meryl glanced briefly to Vash and found him still staring at her with a dumbfounded expression. But the moment their eyes met he looked down and grabbed his drink, taking a healthy swallow to hide his blush. Meryl found herself doing the same.

Because in that moment, to her horror, she realized something: Wolfwood was right. She was repressed, and she’d accidentally just un-repressed herself.

As sloppy and short as that kiss had been, and as little as she’d intended it to mean, the reaction her body was having to it was alarming in its intensity. It had ignited a fire in her belly and sent blood rushing to very particular places, and the urge to crawl over the table and do it again was… much stronger than was reasonable.

She needed a distraction. It would pass if she just gave herself enough time. It always did when she was sober. She turned away and caught a bartender sweeping past the tables, extending an arm to grab his attention.

“Bartender!” she shouted, “Two more, please!”

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Little over an hour later, she was eight drinks in and the world was bright and the floor moving a little bit too much but everything was just… great. Wolfwood was great. The beer was great. Or was it Whiskey? Whatever it was was great. Just the best.

“Wolfswood,” she slurred as she pressed herself against their table, leaning over the top to poke him in the chest “Yer a good guy. You went an-an helped my sempai. And y’know what? I b’lieve in you. You can do it. Finda girl. Get laid. ”

“You know what?!” he shouted, swaying a bit as he waved his mug around. “You’re right! Imma do that. ‘S a great idea. Oiiii, Needle-Noggin’!” he shouted, slapping Vash on the back, “Wish me luck!”

“G’luck, Woofs—Wolfs—Wolfwood,” Vash asserted seriously, raising his mug in the other man’s direction.

Wolfwood set down his mug with a slam and turned, stumbling off toward a group of women huddled by the bar, and Meryl waved goodbye the whole way.

With only Vash left at the table she swiveled on her heel (and almost toppling over in the process) and eyed him with a grin, palms flat on the tabletop.

“Needle Nogginnnnnn’!” she called brightly, eyes squinting in her enthusiasm, “Come dance with me!! We hafta celebrate! Fifty years! Woo!”

He grinned at her, leaning his chin on his palm as he eyed her.

“So you can—can dance, can you?”

“Not on your life!” she grinned, “But who cares! Imma do it anyway!”

She pushed away from the table and spun a circle, which only resulted in her stumbling and falling hard against the tabletop with a wheeze. Once she caught her breath she looked up at him again, and found him staring down at her in amusement, a warm little sparkle in his eyes. He laughed then scooted his way out of the bench, and once he was on his feet he grabbed her hand and led her to the dance floor in the middle of the room. He pulled her to him, taking her hand in his, and leaned in with a smile to speak into her ear.

“Better keep up,” he said, and she felt a delightful shiver run down her neck as his breath tickled her skin.

She grinned back, meeting his gaze. “Let’s see whatcha got, mister six million.”

Over the next half hour, as the celebration grew in size and the celebrants grew in drunkenness, the party spilled out of the saloon and into the street. Meryl found herself dancing with Vash out beneath the stars along with half the clientèle of the establishment and a three piece band playing a lively tune on the porch. She was having fun—so much fun! Sure everything was a little spinny and walking straight was really hard, but she didn’t remember the last time she’d smiled this much.

However… she couldn’t help but notice just a few odd little things as they danced.

Like how nice Vash’s smile was. Or how firm his grip was around her waist. Or how whenever he’d pull her closer (probably by accident) she could feel the strong, firm planes of his chest against her body. Or how fast her heart was beating and how warm her face felt whenever he looked down at her with that odd, piercing gaze. Or how much of an ache she felt between her legs. When did that happen?

And when was the last time she’d had sex?

A moment later he spun her out wildly and despite her wayward thoughts she laughed as the world around her blurred into streaks of color; and then she was falling, falling, landing on the hard earth at the edge of the impromptu dance floor with a thump. A moment later Vash landed beside her.

She must have dragged him down with her.

She felt winded only a moment before she began to laugh, her knees propped, staring up at the starry sky uncaring of the dirt at her back. Vash laughed too, and after a moment he sat up on his knees at her feet. She let out a winded breath, taking in the stars a moment—they were dancing around in the sky, then she raised her arms above her in a silent bid for a hand.

She was surprised when, a moment later, she felt Vash’s hands on her knees instead.

Her heart leapt into her throat, and she felt that ache between her legs reignite. She lifted her head off the dirt and stared down at Vash in confusion, only to find him staring hard at her legs. After a moment, he lifted his gaze to her face and she felt momentarily winded. The look in his eyes was fixated and intense, drinking her in like water.

Absently she felt regret for the decision to wear her leggings to the celebration.

He pulled her legs apart slowly at the knees and she let him, her heart pounding against her ribcage and echoing in her ears, her stomach tight and tense with anticipation. His gaze trailed slowly down her face, over her chest, and down to the apex of her thighs, and she felt his thumbs rub slow circles on the interior of her knee. She panted breathlessly at the shiver it sent running through her.

Oh God, she wanted—

“Oi! What the hell you two doin’?! Get a room for fuck’s sake! What is wrong with you?!”

Meryl started, her mind snapping out of whatever drunken fog it had been in and she turned her head to find Wolfwood marching across the road from the Saloon, hands in the air in disbelieving exasperation.

In an instant, the world resolved around her. Music. Shouts. Laughter. Hundreds of people barely ten feet away, and she was—they were…

Red hot embarrassment lanced through her and she scrambled upright onto her knees, her face flaming and her stomach turning. She glanced only briefly at Vash—she couldn’t bear looking at him for more than a split second—and found his face as mortified as her own.

Absently, she wondered when the last time he’d had sex was.

Suddenly, her stomach roiled—sharp and painful and debilitatingly queasy. She put a hand to her mouth. Her head felt light and hot, her mouth suddenly full of too much saliva. Not good. Not good.

She scrambled away, struggling to hold it in. She only just managed to get out of the street before the few snacks she’d had over the course of the night made their reappearance, splattering all over the alley as she retched. Behind her, she could hear Vash doing the same into a bucket beside a hay bale.

In the street, Wolfwood shook his head, a hand at his brow as he grumbled, “Absolutely fucking hopeless.”

As Meryl dry heaved onto the ground, she couldn’t help but agree.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

>> FullCry on AO3 / Main: @spicychestnut / Patreon / Ko-Fi

#Mature #FanFiction #VashMeryl #Vash x Meryl #Mash #Trigun #Trigun Stampede #Meryl Stryfe #Vash the Stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #Roberto DeNiro #Humor #FullyCry Fanfics

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boopityba · 14 days ago

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I Made It To Jubitz

By Brian Farrell

I had heard about Jubitz Truck Stop in Portland, Oregon from a truck driver friend of mine a few years ago. Whenever his routes led him to the trucker’s paradise that is Jubitz, he’d take pictures, send me souvenirs and text me, “Guess where I am? You guessed it...Jubitz!” We’d laugh and it became a weird comedy bit that never got old. I now have five Jubitz trucker hats, two Jubitz coffee mugs, a Jubitz tumbler, Jubitz bottle opener, bumper stickers, and a Jubitz sweatshirt. Excessive? After visiting this past weekend, I think not.

Monroe “Moe” Jubitz founded this iconic rest stop that encapsulates Americana and comfort in 1952 with a mission to provide truckers the best in customer service and cater to all their needs. I can attest that his mission was successful. I salute you, Moe.

I stayed overnight at Jubitz’s Portlander Inn - a lovely hotel. When checking in to my room, the front desk lady, Robin, chuckled while commenting on me wearing my Jubitz trucker hat, “I see you’re all decked out in Jubitz gear.” “You betcha! I’m thrilled to be here!” I replied. Robin humored me for longer than she had to when I flooded her with questions about everything Jubitz.

Jubitz has all the basics that a traveling trucker might need or want and more; a top notch laundromat, clean showers, a post office, Jubitz has a movie theater! The Jubitz Cinema! Nosferatu was playing there when I was visiting. There’s a barber, conference rooms, a massage parlor, a truck driver museum, the Jake Brake Deli, Cascade Grill - best pancakes I’ve ever had and eggs cooked perfectly over easy, live entertainment with some of the best underground country acts at the Ponderosa Lounge and Grill, and Moe’s Deli.

The customer service there was first rate. Welcoming, friendly, informative and fun. I bought a few souvenirs to ship off to friends and I could see that I amused the fella ringing me up when I asked him if they had a gift wrapping service. They didn’t. But they should! I’ll make sure to put that on my comment card next visit. I felt like I was visiting the Disneyland of Truck Stops.

Feelings of guilt started to creep in while I was there. Imposter syndrome. That voice saying, “I’m a fraud. I’m not a truck driver. I’m just taking advantage of the best aspects of this culture - trucker life, but not putting in the work to deserve this enjoyment.” I have deep admiration and appreciation of truck drivers. Virtually everything we buy has been delivered by a truck driver. It’s a tough job, and here I am yucking it up and having fun at their place of respite. It took a close friend of mine to tell me that it’s okay that I’m here and that I’m contributing to this community by being a customer. I paid for a room, bought fudge at Moe’s Deli, bought souvenirs, and tipped well for both meals I enjoyed at the Cascade Grill. Those Jubitz burgers were tasty.

As with many things in my life that begin with me joking about it, this was no exception, I became my parody - a Jubitz fanatic. I’m not a truck driver...yet, but I sure enjoyed visiting Jubitz Truck Stop this past weekend. If you find yourself in Portland, in addition to experiencing the beautiful parks and hip city restaurants and venues, I strongly recommend paying Jubitz a visit.

Try the fudge at Moe’s Deli!

#Jubitz

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noisycowboyglitter · 6 months ago

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Unwrap Laughter: Funny Santa Mid Year Report Still Naughty Merchandise

"Funny Santa Mid Year Report Still Naughty Christmas in July" combines several humorous concepts to create a playful twist on traditional Christmas themes. This idea plays with the notion of Santa Claus keeping tabs on behavior year-round, not just during the holiday season.

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Imagine Santa, dressed in his iconic red suit but with sunglasses and flip-flops, sitting at a beach desk reviewing his infamous naughty and nice list in the middle of summer. The "mid-year report" suggests a comedic corporate-style performance review for children (and perhaps adults) worldwide.

The phrase "Still Naughty" implies that despite having half a year to improve their behavior, some individuals haven't managed to move to the nice list. This could be depicted in a funny chart or graph showing a lack of progress in the "good behavior" department.

"Christmas in July" is a popular concept in many countries, offering a taste of winter cheer during the hottest month. In this context, it adds to the absurdity of Santa working on his list out of season.

This humorous concept could be used for various products or media:

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Greeting cards with a mid-year warning from Santa

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The idea taps into the universal experience of trying (and sometimes failing) to be on one's best behavior, adding a laugh to the often-serious task of self-improvement.

Christmas gifts for employees are a thoughtful way for employers to show appreciation and boost morale during the holiday season. These gifts should strike a balance between professionalism and personal touch, while considering company culture and budget.

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Popular options include practical items like high-quality travel mugs, power banks, or desk organizers, which employees can use daily at work. Tech gadgets such as wireless earbuds or smart home devices are often well-received.

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raspberryconverse · 11 months ago

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NT Wife Problems, part 24324546:

Every other week my spouse and I go to the chiropractor together. His office is about a 25 min drive away (Spouse originally chose him because of his proximity to their office, which they never have to go to anymore. I had chosen one near my office in hopes it would make me go into the office more often, but he was a prick and I left halfway through the appointment. I'm not sure if there are any closer Gonstead chiropractors to where we live, but we like Dr. Greg, so we keep seeing him), so on my week, I drive us both. I only need to go every other week and they go every week because they have fibromyalgia.

This week was my week. While I never actually reminded them that it was my week, I thought there were enough signs to show that it was. I got dressed at 10:45 (I don't usually get dressed until the afternoon unless I have something going on). I was making just coffee in the kitchen and putting it in my travel mug. When they got their coat out of the closet, I asked them to grab mine too (they didn't hear me, but I still went over to the coat closet to get my coat right after them).

Usually when we go somewhere together, we don't go out the door at the same time. Someone is usually trailing behind, making sure the wastebasket is put away so Mable doesn't get into it, feeding the dogs, picking up the cat food so the dogs don't eat it, etc. They lock the back door and meet the other in the garage. I thought this is what happened.

I was wrong. When I walked out to the garage, the door was closed. Our side door is sticking, so we can only get into the garage from the big door. We also only have 1 clicker because when we tried to program a 2nd one, it deactivated the first one. So even if I wanted to try to get there on my own, I couldn't.

My spouse, of course, did not notice any of the clues that it was also supposed to be my week to go to the chiropractor because autism/ADHD. I thought maybe we could handle not putting when it was my week on our calendars (I don't have it on mine because we always get a text the day before reminding us), but apparently I was wrong.

Luckily, Dr. Greg will squeeze me in tomorrow. And also gave my spouse shit about forgetting me because I suggested he do so when I texted him before they got there and he's got a good sense of humor. "Did you forget something?" "Huh? What did I forget?" "Nicole."

#nt wife problems #autism #adhd #chiropractors are magical

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kithkinchick · 1 year ago

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Luck's a Chance, Trouble's Sure

Chapter Three: Old-New Neighborhood.

The next morning, despite her fitful night, Gayle rose, dressed in her new clothes, and headed to the bar. She was greeted by the woman who had seemed in charge upon her arrival yesterday, and floundered for a moment for her name. “Good morning Ms. Morgan.”

“Oh please, just Sarah will do, we don’t stand on much ceremony here.” Sarah stretched out a mug. “Coffee? Milk and sugar are behind the bar.”

Gayle took the mug gratefully, “Thanks, but I like it black.” Taking her first sip she bit back a moan, tasting a far better brew than the Terrabrew from vending she had become used to. “That’s good.”

“One of Walter’s little quirks, he can’t stand bad coffee, and we all benefit from it.” Sarah sat at a small table, gesturing for Gayle to join her. “Now, are you ready to get to work?”

Gayle nodded, “yes, I’d be grateful if you could arrange transport back to Argos, or to their office in Neon, so I can rejoin my crew.”

“Whatever do you mean? We’d like you to work with Constellation, to see if exploration suits you, as Barrett seemed to think.”

Sarah’s words shocked Gayle, she was not expecting this, certainly they had come to their senses after last night, and Barrett had told them it had all been a mistake, a joke on his part for inconveniencing the stalwart Lin.

Seeing her confusion, Sarah continued, “You and I will travel together for a bit, get your feet wet and your bearings straight, and then you can make a decision.”

Gayle nodded numbly in response.

“Good, I’ll meet you downstairs when you are ready then.” Sarah dusted off her hands and stood. Get yourself some breakfast. I’ve left some gear with Vasco, including a boost pack, you’ll need it out in the field.”

After choking down a scramble she put together from ingredients behind the bar, Gayle headed downstairs.

“Vasco, I was told you had something for me?”

“Indeed, your equipment is ready. Would you like to make any modifications before we depart?” His camera lens whirred and focused on her face “There is a workshop downstairs.”

“No, that’s not really something I’ve got experience with.” Gayle demurred.

“All right. Captain Morgan’s Rambler is at the Spaceport, I will meet you there.” Without further discussion, the large robot walked toward the door.

Sarah rose from the desk where she had been seated, “Ready then? I’ve got a tip from the UC Vanguard that sounds promising, it’s got that tingle that I sometimes feel when we are on the brink of something.”

The conversation with Commander Tuala of the Vanguard showed a different side of Sarah to Gayle, one with humor, but still focused. Once they received the tip about Moaru’s bragging, and newest ornament, they headed toward the space port. Waiting for the NAT, Sarah spoke again. “This isn’t just about me seeing how you handle yourself, but I want you to get an opportunity to learn more about us. I’ll stick with you to the end of this lead, whether there’s an Artifact there or not.” Gayle nodded, and the pair stepped onto the NAT car, Sarah turning slightly green as it accelerated.

Quick as a whistle they were on board Sarah’s Rambler and strapped in for liftoff. As they entered a stable orbit, Sarah turned to Gayle once more. “You know, I have a quick stop to make in Gagarin before we head to the Sol system. Would you like to take the opportunity for a bit more rest?”

“Is it that obvious?” Gayle asked stiffly, “I’m no stranger to sleepless nights.”

“You’ve had a very eventful day, no shame in taking downtime so you can be sharp.” With that, Gayle unbuckled her harness and made her way to the ship’s bunk, collapsing bonelessly.

Gayle couldn’t have told how much time passed between that exhausted crumpling and dive into sleep and when she woke to the sound of her own screams bouncing through the small ship. She sat straight up and looked about wildly, finding Sarah seated to a desk just next to the bunk.

“There it is.” Where Gayle expected to hear condescension she found only understanding. “We haven’t asked you, not really, how you are handling what happened on Vectera, and on Kreet.”

Gayle tried fiercely to calm her heart rate and panting breaths, but was unsuccessful. At the sight of this new member panting and frozen, pupils dilated like an animal in a trap, Sarah changed tacts. Slowing her own breathing, she leaned back in the chair, still making eye contact, and spoke, in a low conversational tone.

“I was in the UC Navy for a long time, saw a lot of new recruits through the change that happened once they saw their first action. A lot of them struggled, even with the best training and preparation we could give. I wouldn’t guess that you got anything close to that as a miner.” As they spoke, Gayle’s posture slowly relaxed, beginning to mirror Sarah’s, and her breathing slowed to match the other woman’s. Unable to trust her voice, she shook her head.

“And I don’t suppose you had anything before mining? The record Argos sent over said you were a probationary contract, still in your first 90 days.”

Gayle shook her head once more, and this time found her voice, “I had firing range experience in school, before I picked the Administration track, but nothing since.”

“But you didn’t stick with the UC and go into MAST?” Sarah queried gently.

“No, worked in projects and management, most recently at Reladyne before I” She paused, “before I left. Vectera was the first time I watched someone die”

“Whatever you were before doesn’t much matter,” Sarah reassured her, “but I want to make sure you have the tools to handle all the parts of exploration that Constellation comes up against.” Reaching toward the desk behind her, she pulled forward a pill bottle and handed it to Gayle.

“I don’t take chems.” Gayle tried to refuse.

“This is different.” Sarah explained. “What you’re going through, the jumpiness, the poor sleep, the nightmares, the racing heart, it’s a normal response to trauma. I imagine you are getting some intrusive memories, maybe some thoughts you can’t control?” At Gayle’s nod Sarah continued. “Military scientists have been researching this for as long as the old United States of America’s civil war, how soldiers reacted to seeing, and causing death, while being in fear for themselves.” She rolled her shoulders before continuing

“They’ve called it a lot of things over the years, but did get one thing clear: it’s a normal response, and in a lot of cases that spike of adrenaline is processed, the person is able to reorient themselves, get through it, and often go on and do a lot of good. The problem seemed to come when the process got stuck, for lack of a better term, and that adrenaline just kept pouring out. That’s where this comes in” She shook the bottle.

“It blocks some of the effects of adrenaline in the body, so the heart pounding and the shaking and the sweating doesn’t happen. I don’t pretend to understand it all, but the UC found it helped new servicemembers get through the first push of aftermath, and make a decision for themselves about the next step, without being driven by fear.”

“That sounds like exactly what I need.” Gayle mused. “I know how to deal with anxiety, I have been doing that for years, but this feels different.” She reached for the bottle and popped the contents into her mouth, swallowing easily.

“All right then.” Sarah stood, “We are in orbit around Mars, let’s head to Cydonia and check on our wayward Vanguard.” Gayle’s smile in response was small, but genuine.

In the Broken Spear Gayle felt much more in her element, cozying up to the gruff bartender and pulling out information to eventually talk him around.

Back on board the ship, Sarah inputted the Venus coordinates and commented “I see what battlefields you have already mastered.”

“Words come easy for me.”

“Always play to your strengths.” The flight to Venus passed unremarkably, but the slow creep past the ships spouting zealotry ran a cold finger down Gayle’s back. Nabbing Oteru’s message about Nova Galactic, Sarah swiftly inputted the coordinates, and they slipped away from the Va’ruun ships, back toward Sol and the threshold for humanity’s step into the stars.

Expecting the abandoned shipyard to be empty was a fruitless hope, but Gayle was glad that Sarah stopped and took the time to discuss the Spacers when they found a limp body in the docking bay.

“The Spacers aren’t an organized group, just desperate groups scavenging and killing to stay alive. The Crimson Fleet are another rapacious bunch, pirating and terrorizing the Settled Systems. They and Ecliptic can really do a number on outposts.”

“Do you run into them often as Constellation?” Gayle had to ask. Sarah’s barking laugh was mirthless.

“Yes, unfortunately. The Settled Systems are far from stable, and exploring can really expose you to these more renegade groups. We don’t go looking for them, but each of us has made their own decision on how to deal with them when they find us.”

“Like Barrett and the artifact.”

“Exactly. Each member of Constellation is their own conscience, so long as they don’t bring trouble back to the Lodge, or the group at large. I guess the question is, do you see yourself willing to deal with them?”

Gayle hesitated, and then replied, “I don’t want to just fight and kill for the sake of it. Like you said, my strengths are in talking people down. But I do want to do good. I hadn’t figured that out quite yet, but it seems like exploring might help with that.” She took a deep breath. “For right now, I can commit to defending myself, but I can’t shoot first.”

“That’s fair.” Sarah knelt to examine the body, before them “It looks like another group might have come and interrupted this man’s group.” Unholstering her pistol, Sarah moved forward, with Gayle following suit.

They entered to a firefight between two groups that looked different, even to Gayle’s inexperienced eyes. A group in gleaming armored suits, with all but their eyes covered, fought with a ragtag group of scavengers in mismatched suits. While Sarah took stock of the situation, Gayle crouched behind a counter.

As soon as the groups registered the presence of the new players, the situation devolved into chaos. No time for explanations or reasoning was given, just an immediate barrage of gunfire. Sarah fired back, dropping smoothly into cover to reload, just as Gayle gritted her teeth, popped her head up from her hiding spot and fired a quick barrage into the nearest combatant.

What followed was intense and rapid, with Sarah’s low voice over the comm guiding Gayle in a steady and relentless exploration of the station, coming across individuals cut off from their groups. Gayle remained ready to talk, but was disappointed when time after time the retort of a gun was the greeting they received, and she realized just how cheaply these Ecliptic and Spacers held life. As they progressed, her anger grew with the body count, thinking of these not as people she had killed, specifically, but as people that would have gone on and killed, stolen, and broken, leaving naught in their wake but despair and emptiness.

It was almost a shock when the shipyard fell silent, and Sarah’s query to Vasco about any remaining life signs was responded in the negative.

They quickly shifted to searching for any evidence of the Vanguard’s next move. As the search stretched out, Gayle found the clarity of battle receding, and a dull headache pounding at her temples. She tried to distract herself by thinking of alternatives to call the Artifacts. She was feeling battered about and a little resentful of these things for upending her life so easily, and wanted to have a personal name with a little less gravitas to show them her disdain, even if only within her own mind. Widget felt too whimsical, splinter too organic, and thrice-blasted-pain-in-the-ass too long

She was mulling over shard and remnant when Sarah made a sound of triumph, “Yes!” she continued after a pause, “Found a slate he left, and it looks like he headed to Neptune.” If she noticed that Gayle jumped and then stood stock still at her voice, she didn’t mention it, just beckoned to her and headed back toward their docking port. Gayle shook herself, clenched her hands together to stop the trembling that had happened when the other woman’s voice had rung out, like a shot, and decided that artifact would do, but without the capitalization of a proper title, thank you very much.

After Neptune, and boarding Otaru’s ship, Gayle found herself facing another of the artifacts, this one ignobly propped in the corner of Otero’s cockpit. She braced herself for the headache when she reached for it, but was relieved when it came away easily, without a light show. “Maybe the first was a fluke” she thought, “They will see I’m not a member of their club, and let me go back.” If a sly voice whispered into her head ‘back to what?’ she ignored it.

Returning to Jemison and the Lodge was a peaceful affair, and Gayle took the opportunity to rest, anticipating that she would be headed back to mining shortly.

To her shock and dismay (and maybe a little triumph, deep inside), rather than patting her on the head and sending her away from their illustrious group, her performance had impressed, and Sarah welcomed her as a full member. Pushing aside the old thoughts that they would soon see their mistake, and regret relying on her

The new Gayle, the pragmatic one that relied on results she could see, decided that she would take this opportunity, and if they learned that she was just masquerading as one of them, they could make that decision when they found out.

Pondering the credits and gear given to her, as well as the lodging upstairs, the thought came that this might give her the opportunity to own her own ship, and to have a plan for after, whenever that came.

#sam coe #sam coe x spacefarer #starfield #tumblr confuses me #no beta we die like men #slow burn #i promise they meet eventually

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grannyandgrandpascreations · 2 months ago

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Mechanic Hourly Rate 20 Ounce Stainless Steel Traveling Drinking Mug Tumbler

Add humor to your daily routine with the Stainless Steel Traveling Mug Tumbler featuring the hilarious "Mechanical Hourly Rate" design. Crafted for durability and practicality, this tumbler is perfect for keeping your drinks hot or cold for hours. Its double-wall insulation and spill-resistant lid make it ideal for work, road trips, or everyday use. The witty mechanical rate chart design makes it a fun and unique gift for mechanics, engineers, or anyone who appreciates a good laugh with their coffee or tea.

Care instructions: Hand wash and air dry or hand dry

Due to different picture lighting settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

After a package leaves my hands with the post office, Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations is not held responsible. Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!

Thank you so much for supporting our "small Granny & Grandpa's Shop", we truly appreciate YOU!

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Enjoy laughs and your favorite drinks with the stainless steel traveling tumbler featuring the "Mechanical Hourly Rate" design. Perfect for hot or cold drinks, it’s a great gift for mechanics or anyone who loves funny sayings.

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penrick · 2 years ago

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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Ceramic Travel Mug “I’m Not Tense Just Terribly Terribly Alert!!!”.

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undreaming-fanfiction · 2 years ago

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Oh hey, look at the X-Files Steddie AU no one asked for! Anyway...

Agent Munson wasn't known for being a team player.

He prided himself on driving everyone crazy. Not just his boss, not just his coworkers, not just his neighbors. Everyone. Maybe not his cat, Ozzy was a patient creature, but that was it. He hoped that in time, people would learn their lesson and he would be left alone on the X-Files, free to research his life's work. He was tired of being called "spooky", of being treated like a freak. Excuse him for having and actual reason to be here, for keeping his eyes and mind open.

But of course, someone had the bright idea to assign him yet another partner. Again. As if this one would be any different. And so Munson resigned himself to another round of the same old situation - the guy comes in, sees the weird shit he has in his office, realizes the X-Files is a dead-end job, gets mad at his completely reasonable theories, tries to impede his investigations and eventually gets pissed off and pushes enough to get assigned elsewhere (agent Hagan, oh how Eddie didn't miss that spotted mug of his), gets bitten and infected by a mutated creature from abandoned steelworks (agent Hargrove, a piece of shit until he wasn't, but then he was nearly dead and transferred, so that was a big question mark on the character development) or straight up dies by melting into two halves for their ignorance (agent Carver, Munson told him not to get too close to that acid-vomiting guy, he really did, but did that blonde asshole listen? Of course not, not since Chrissy...but that was another can of worms. A whole pot of worms). And then all those that didn't even last a week, Munson didn't really care to remember their names. This one was likely in the last group too.

And yet he wasn't. When Munson kicked open the door to his office, balancing a huge pile of printed out articles, he found himself facing a barrel of a gun - and behind it, a deceptively pretty mane of hair and even prettier amber eyes. Of course, Munson only found that out later, after agent Harrington calmed down and helped him pick up the scattered papers. "Seriously, man, ever heard of a doorknob? They're neat." And he had a sense of humor too...and was a bit of an asshole, which hey, relatable.

Munson just shook his head. "Do you think I get many visitors here, Harrington? Sorry I wasn't expecting company."

"Weren't you told I'd be coming?" His eyes traveled to a box of unopened internal letters and memos. "Hm. Guess that answers my question."

Munson shrugged and collected the remaining papers, shoving them on top of a very wobbly pile. He then collapsed into a chair that gave a very undignified squeak and observed Harrington with narrowed eyes. A handsome guy, almost pretty. Fabulous hair. Haunted eyes. Once again, relatable. "So what did you even do to get buried down here with me?" he asked, picking up a pen and twirling it between his fingers. "Slept with someone's wife? Refused to rush an inconvenient investigation? Punched Hagan when he was being a racist pig?"

He was set on hating Harrington, maybe just disliking him before he inevitably left, but then he had the nerve to smirk and run that perfectly manicured hand through his hair. "If I did that every time, Hagan's face would look like a meat loaf in two business days."

Despite his best efforts, Munson snickered. "Doesn't it though?"

They shared a brief truce before Harrington straightened his back and adjusted his perfect tie. "Actually, I asked to be transferred here."

Munson dropped his pen. Well, he actually let it go mid-spin and it flew off to the pile of papers, disrupting its fragile balance. Harrington effortlessly reached over and stabilized it. "Excuse me. You fucking did what."

It wasn't a question because there was no reasonable answer, nothing that could make the situation make sense. "I asked. That's what people do when they want something."

"Cool. I was just checking." Munson's mind was racing now. This one would probably take longer than two weeks. Shit. "But...why?"

Harrington leaned against his desk, started reading through his articles without even wincing. Munson was pretty sure the top article was about a case of cannibalism, what the hell was this guy? "Heard you pissed off a cult."

Oh. That. Munson had almost forgotten, he interrupted a holy ceremony or something by reminding them that kidnapping and ritual sacrifice weren't protected by the constitution. "They weren't exactly difficult to piss off," he mentioned, still watching Harrington with suspicion. "So you volunteered to be my watchdog or something?"

For the first time, Harrington's full attention shifted to Munson and well, that was uncomfortable. The look had some unspoken weight to it and Harrington leaned forward, into Munson's personal space. "Whatever it takes. Watchdog, bodyguard, I don't care. I'll be honest with you, Munson. I don't really believe in supernatural stuff, but I sure believe in human evil. Cults like the one you disrupted? They're the worst. I'm not here because I want to find Bigfoot, communicate with spirits or whatever you do, but I've heard about the way you work. You look into anything and everything. You're so meticulous it's annoying. You get results, no matter what the guys above us say. And you get away with it. That's why I'm here."

Munson just stared at him and wanted to ask so many things. What the fuck was Harrington's history with cults? Why would he throw away his career for it? How did he maintain that majestic hairstyle even though their brief scuffle? So many questions on his mind, but Harrington was there, willing to work and maybe that was the best Munson would ever get.

He smirked at Harrington and slapped the pile of papers. "Works for me, big boy. Now let's get to it, I think I might have a few cases that you'll find interesting."

Harrington rolled his eyes, but returned the smirk. "Glad I passed the job interview, Munson. Show me."

#stranger things drabble #stranger things AU #steve harrington #eddie munson #x files au #stranger things ficlet

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jimilter · 3 years ago

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resolution revolution | a bts event | masterlist

The end of a year brings the beginning of another! ✨

May it be a student going home for the holidays, a nightclub owner hosting a celebration, an overworked person looking forward to some time off, a big-shot CEO thinking of ways to change things in the coming year, a military Chief planning better strategies, a struggling artist trying to make a few extra bucks, a single parent envying everyone else because they never get days-off, or a radio-host helping makes others’ days better – the end of the year has different implications for everyone.

And as one chapter in their lives closes and another opens up this New Year’s eve, they sort through new beginnings, final goodbyes, uncomplicating misunderstandings and changing the way they have viewed life thus far.

Welcome to Resolution Revolution, a Slice of Life collaborative event hosted by the loveliest Amelia, @knjsnoona, and yours truly, @jimilter, where we came together with some wonderful writers to create stories about heartbreak, reconciliation, facing the past and moving forward, all centered around the New Year’s eve! You’ll find a character trope attached to each of the fic’s pairing and one out of four particular AUs with every story, to make things interesting.

So snuggle up under a blanket with a mug of warm cocoa with a box of tissues at the ready to delve into these brilliant stories about a lot of heartbreak and tears mixed in with a lot of laughter and kisses – all the aspects that makes us human.

We all hope you will have the greatest of time stepping into 2022 with us! 💕

SOME OF THE STORIES CONTAIN SMUT - MINORS DNI.

✨ bad habits by @sugasbabiie/@sugakookitty

⇀ yoongi x reader ◆ college student travelling home

⇀ exes to lovers!au | smut, angst, fluff

You and Yoongi ended your relationship three years ago. However, neither of you can ever seem to resist the urge of sneaking off and screwing each other until the sun comes up. Your friends beg you to stop seeing him, knowing he isn’t good for you. But how can you stay away when you see him at a New Year's Eve party, looking hotter than ever? There’s nothing to worry about; you know exactly how to play his game. Or so you thought.

✨ fair winds by @ilikemesometaetaes

⇀ hoseok x reader ◆ lives at the office ceo/chief

⇀ estranged lovers!au | angst, smut

Some people don’t actually like seeing their exes upset - do you? He’s your ex-fiancé, after all.

✨ holding you like this by @jimilter

⇀ taehyung x reader ◆ club owner

⇀ estranged lovers!au | angst, smut, humor

Taehyung didn't anticipate seeing you tonight, least of all with a date by your side, but he guesses it'll be okay because it has been over five years since he last saw you and he has moved on. But the air is far from cleared between you both. So when confrontations start to happen, all of the pain from his past he thought he had overcome makes itself known, unwelcome.

✨ hurts like heaven by @knjsnoona

⇀ taehyung x reader ◆ lives at the office ceo/chief

⇀ lovers to exes!au | angst, fluff, smut

Your love story with Taehyung began with the beginning of a new year - and now, years down the line, it stands to end with the end of one. It sounds kind of poetic when put that way. But the actual in-between has been anything but.

✨ just a little bit of your heart by @chemicalpink

⇀ jungkook x reader ◆ struggling artist

⇀ exes to lovers!au | fluff, angst, smut

Jungkook’s eyes used to always be wide with wonder, although your paths had separated a long time ago, you still find yourself wondering if after all that he’s been through, they still keep their magic inside them, if he’s still got that special place for you in his heart.

✨ let the confetti fall by @lavienjin

⇀ jungkook x reader ◆ lives at the office ceo/chief

⇀ estranged lovers!au | angst

just when you think you're able to move on, the past returns. will you succumb to its comfort or cleave it once and for all to forge a path for the future? the clock is ticking. who will hold your hand once the new year's strikes?

✨ love.fm by @ugh-yoongi

⇀ namjoon x reader ◆ radio host

⇀ estranged lovers!au | angst, humor, fluff

you know three things for certain: jeon jeongguk will do anything to inconvenience you, kim seokjin is an absolute bastard for putting you in charge of the station’s holiday show, and you’ve got a lot of regrets about the way your relationship ended. however, you also know spending the last year on your own has done you some good. you’ve got a new haircut, an apartment with a bay window, and a rescue dog.

there’s also the stranger who keeps writing into the station about regrets of their own. the stranger whose prose feels so familiar. the stranger who leaves you wondering if things with your ex are quite as resolved as you think.

✨ new year resolution by @joheunsaram

⇀ yoongi x reader ◆ a single parent

⇀ strangers to lovers!au | fluff, angst, smut

Ever since Yoongi ran into you at the grocery store six months ago, you have been running through his mind. It doesn’t help that he has to see you everyday at his daughter’s school with your pretty smile and kind eyes. And it really doesn’t help when Seokjin tries to help him out by inviting you to his New Year Eves party.

✨ once upon a heartbreak by @mrsparknamjoon

⇀ namjoon x reader ◆ lives at the office ceo/chief

⇀ lovers to exes!au | angst

at the release party for your very first book you didn't expect to see the guy who inspired you to write it at 20 feet away, much less with another woman by his side, nor that she would be wearing an engagement ring. all of the things he seemingly couldn't do it for you back then were now a reality with her. the truth is, you don't know if you are sad or relieved.

✨ one last time by @myooniverse

⇀ yoongi x reader ◆ struggling artist

⇀ estranged lovers!au | angst, fluff, smut

When you married Min Yoongi, you thought it was forever. Flash forward two years and all you’re left with is a crappy apartment, a broken heart and a messy divorce, all because he chose his music over you.

Just when you think your year couldn’t get any worse, the death of your grandfather has you both running back to the small town you tried so desperately to leave behind. Forced to see the man you hate and the family you haven’t spoken to in years, you dread this holiday season more than usual. However, your luck takes a turn for the better when you find out that you have inherited your grandfather’s house. There's just one condition — you still need to be married.

Unwilling to just give up the house, you and your estranged ex-husband come up with a plan. It was simple. All you had to do was pretend to be happily married, one last time.

✨ resolutions by @jessikahathaway

⇀ jimin x reader ◆ overworked person living paycheck to paycheck

⇀ strangers to lovers!au | smut, fluff, angst

Jimin never knew what to do with his money. He could spend it on anything. Or anyone. Why of all people, did he decide to spend it on you?

✨ saglit by @eatjeanjin

⇀ namjoon x reader ◆ overworked person living paycheck to paycheck

⇀ lovers to exes!au | angst

“saglit” (Tagalog) – translation: a brief moment. | An entire decade. This amount of time sounds so small compared to a lifetime. But it also seems like such a long time– long enough for so many things that can affect the rest of one’s life to happen. You and Namjoon have been together in this decade of your life, and you’ve known him even longer than that. Your time together were the best years of your life, and a huge part of you belongs to him and of him to you. Which was why when you sat there next to him, in one of the pews by the center aisle of the church where he first told you he loved you, you were shaking from holding back your tears as you returned the ring he had given you ten years ago.

✨ somewhere between the lines by @sublimebangtan

⇀ namjoon x reader ◆ lives at the office ceo/chief

⇀ exes to lovers!au | smut, angst

You can hardly wait for your date New Year’s Eve. It’s the first time you’ve felt confident enough to dress up with the intention of letting someone who isn’t your ex husband, undress you at the end of the night.

Mother Nature has other plans for you though, bringing a very unwelcome snow storm and your ex husband to your door. But perhaps this snow storm is what the two of you really needed.

✨ stolen dances by @lavienvante

⇀ taehyung x reader ◆ lives at the office ceo

⇀ exes to lovers!au | angst, smut, fluff

new year's eve are meant for new beginnings, but you are brought back to the past as kim taehyung steals you for just one last dance.

✨ strings by @sugasbabiie/@sugakookitty

⇀ seokjin x reader ◆ a single parent + lives at the office ceo/chief + struggling waitress

⇀ strangers to lovers!au | smut, fluff, angst

After being ditched by your friends at a New Year’s Eve party, you and Seokjin decide it’s best to stick together since neither of you are in the partying mood. You two may be from different worlds, but you have at least one thing in common. It’s been ages since you’ve had a decent hook up, so why not bring in the new year by ending your dry spell with someone you’ll probably never meet again?

However, there is one rule. When the morning comes, you both have to go separate ways and carry on as if it never happened.

✨ stroke of midnight by @ressjeon

⇀ jungkook x reader ◆ grocery store night shift worker

⇀ lovers to exes!au | angst, smut, fluff

an opportunity that you couldn’t pass so you left everything behind, including the guy that you first fell in love with because of the sparkles in his eyes. you never thought that you would see him again, in the arms of another woman on the night of your return at a gathering on New Year’s Eve.

aaand, that is all! happy new year 2022, everyone!!! ❤🎊❤

#bts #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #bts imagine #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook angst #yoongi smut #bts fanfction #jimin smut #namjoon smut #hoseok smut #taehyung angst #c: event post #not q

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coeurdastronaute · 2 years ago

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Nerd 21

Previously on Nerd

The light flipped on in the kitchen and Lexa’s head shot up as it drifted toward her bowl of cereal. She blinked a few times and twirled her spoon around absently. She was too tired for anything else, too tired to eat. Too tired to think about making it up to her room just yet.

So she half-slept through her cereal and fought to make lists in her head for the coming days.

“You look like shit, darling,” Beth chuckled as she went about making coffee.

“I’m fine.”

“There’s no business like show business,” she sang, taunting her daughter who just rolled her eyes at the tap routine. “And I tell you it’s so.”

“Har, har,” Lexa grunted before drinking some of her milk.

“Seriously, how’s it going? Having fun?”

“It’s honestly great. Just a few more night shoots and then I’ll be back on a normal schedule.”

“Are you actually learning a lot?”

“I really am. The process and stuff. It’s kind of cool. Not a huge budget, but definitely bigger than whatever I can do.”

“Speaking of…. When is the next Lexa Woods production gearing up? I looked at the film school requirements, and you have to really narrow down a lot of things and submit a few samples. But it’s really the MFA that develops the technical side. You know we still require you to get a boring back up plan degree.”

Beth moved around the kitchen in a familiar dance, one that she’d perfected. She poured herself a mug of coffee and took out the chicken for dinner. She prepped her husband’s travel mug just as he liked it. Lexa liked the tiny moments of love that she’d never thought to look at before, but now kept seeing everywhere.

“It’s the Aden documentary. So I’m already working on it… just need a little more outlining and then interviewing. It feels nice to work on something on my own. Cos is helping-- she wants to make documentaries and I never have, but I can’t get it out of my head. It’s weird to work on something on my own-- like not bossing people around and planning shoots.”

Lexa was careful to watch her mothers movements as she spoke, careful to see if there was anything she was pressing too hard on, anything she should avoid. But they’d reached a form of honesty that she was happy to experience. She didn’t want to go backwards. She didn’t want anything to change because she was sick of swallowing her words. She wasn’t ready to start again.

“I’m really excited to see how that turns out. Let me know when it’s my turn to contribute.”

“Yeah, definitely.”

“And you’re getting your summer work done?”

There was the look, the pointed, humorous look that Lexa knew to smile at because her mother was firm but fair, now more than ever.

“We’re two weeks into summer vacation. I’ll be fine.”

“Yes, but you have a girlfriend now, and two jobs, and you’re making a movie. Plus, your dad was mentioning something about a list you’re putting together? And working on the Chevelle?”

“Idle hands, and such.”

“There’s volunteering at the senior center-- don’t forget. You made a commitment.”

Beth took the bowl from across the island and placed it in the sink as Lexa sank a little lower into the counter, her cheek in the crook of her elbow.

“You’ll be sure to rest at some point this summer, right?”

“It’s been scheduled.”

Her mother smiled and rolled her eyes.

“I’m heading into the office.” She poured the coffee for herself and her husband, carefully placing the lid on his and setting it on the edge near the pot so he’d see it. “Are you going to be home for dinner?”

“No, I’m going to set around four. I’ll pack something.”

“Okay.” She moved around the edge of the island and kissed her daughter’s forehead, smoothing the hair there. “Go to bed. I’m really proud of how dedicated you are, and how grown you’ve been, accommodating your responsibilities with your passions. You’re amazing. I love you.”

“Love you too,” Lexa mumbled but still didn’t move. She was comfy where she was for a few more minutes.

She smiled to herself, a delicious kind of tired burrowing into her muscles.

XXXXXXXXXX

It wasn’t that Bellemy hadn’t been a focused person. Clarke figured she must have been attracted to people’s passion or passionate people-- driven maybe, though sometimes Lexa joked that it was probably an obsession. But there was a stark difference between the amount of work he was willing to put in, and the amount that Lexa did, and for that matter, how much help he asked for while Lexa was suffering in silence, afraid to ask for any help, of any type. Clarke was hoping to find more of a middle ground between the two.

Bellamy asked for everything, to the point of exhausting Clarke in the process. Babe, help me study, I need to go to the gym, can you grab me food. On the flipside, Lexa had to schedule things out for at least a week, and even then, rarely did she know how to relax. She enjoyed her internship, she worked, she spent time with her parents, she trained with her team, she did the summer homework, and she never asked for anything. It was an upgrade, of that Clarke was certain.

Begrudgingly, she had to admit that a busy girlfriend doing night shoots meant that she was spending more time with friends, which was fine, except Clarke felt this weird kind of absence she hadn’t experienced when she dated Bellamy and he was busy. She liked spending time with Lexa and her friends, but the absolute driven powerhouse that little nerd was though, just pushed Clarke to feel similarly in her own life as well. It was motivating, to date Lexa Woods. But her schedule also meant finding more reasons to be out of the house as much as possible. Lexa was incredibly motivating though, and even with her mother being over the moon excited about it, Clarke enrolled in two summer science classes at the community college.

It made it easier for her mother to not complain too much about spending time with Lexa, though she still frequently did. But summer was new, and Lexa was working hard, and Clarke was finally figuring out how to do what she wanted, and she was going to find some way to get the balance she wanted. There was a list, after all.

Here, she texted when she reached the designated spot. Half of Main Street had turned into a winter wonderland in the middle of the summer, and it was oddly adorable.

Clarke took a seat on the bench near the corner, well behind the cordoned off part of her own hometown. There was a lot of activity for being eleven at night. She didn’t mind the filming though, because the crew tipped well enough at the diner.

Before she could get too comfortable, a familiar baseball cap approached, weaving through the crowd. There was this thing Clarke could never quite articulate, but she felt a little happier when she saw Lexa. There was this kind of breath that came when the universe allowed her to fully inhale and exhale. Maybe it was just that Lexa was incredibly cute, with her shorts and long legs, and messy ponytail sticking out of her favorite hockey team’s cap that had been her father’s. She was focused and passionate, and when she saw Clarke, she grinned and smiled and took a breath as well. Clarke liked that part. There weren’t enough words to really describe how happy she felt to steal this time.

“Oh my God, I love you,” Lexa tossed back her head and accepted the bag of food offered to her.

Clarke bit her lip and watched her girlfriend dig into the bag, pulling out a few fries and eating them quickly. Realization dawned on her a second later, cheeks full of food, her eyes growing wider as she stared at Clarke and tried to swallow.

With an unheard of effort, Lexa swallowed and coughed, earning a chuckle Clarke couldn’t help or hide.

“I probably, uh, shouldn’t have said that… you know.. Here,” she waved at the holiday-themed town square behind her. “Or with this. Fuck, did I mess it up? I’m so sorry-- I never-- I didn’t mean that--”

“So you don’t love me?” Clarke cocked her head.

“No no no-- I just didn’t mean-- It should have been somewhere better, with candles probably, and not said with fries in my mouth, and I--” Lexa furrowed and kicked the ground, her shoulders moving as she tried to take a deep breath.

“Did you mean it?”

“Yeah, and not just because of the fries. I was really afraid I was going to say it during sex. Anya said that was a very inappropriate time to say it. She also said that I should be very sure before I said it-- and that--”

“Lexa, stop,” Clarke smiled, her heart fluttering because this girl-- THIS girl-- this girl loved her.

There was no one else she wanted to bring fries to in the middle of the night. There was no one else who she memorized how they like their burgers. There was no one else she wanted to make nervous like she made Lexa nervous.

“Sit and eat, please.”

Like a very obedient puppy, Lexa took her seat on the bench. It certainly wasn’t how Clarke expected her night to go, but her girlfriend tilted the bag and offered some of her fries and Clarke took a few while she unwrapped the burger. Light onion, lettuce, one tomato, extra pickles, ketchup, mayo, and just a little mustard.

“Last night's shoot, right?”

“Yeah, I can’t believe we wrap in two weeks. Like, I read all about,” she took a big bite and chewed a bit before speaking again, “about how Casablanca was filmed in two months, or like how Birdman allegedly only took 23 days. But seeing it all happen blows my mind.”

“You film stuff in like a few weeks, just spread out over a few months.”

“That downtime makes a difference.”

“Did you get to show the director your stuff?”

“I am next week.”

“That’s so exciting. She’s going to love it.”

Lexa blushed at the praise but nodded.

“Thanks for this. I was dying and I haven’t gotten time to stop in while you’ve been working.”

“I aim to please. Can’t have my girlfriend withering away to nothing. We have a camping trip coming up and all.”

“I’m so excited,” Lexa grinned as she ate.

Just like that, they settled into an easy conversation about their upcoming plans. Clarke had a test and work, while Lexa had work and the internship. It was a good balance and for the moment, Clarke savored it.

“So tomorrow I swapped for the early shift,” Clarke began as Lexa crumpled up her trash. “And you don’t work at the pool until Thursday, and you’re not back here until Friday. There is a double feature at Twin Pines drive-in.”

“Oh yeah? Which ones?” Lexa’s ears perked up.

“Hard Eight and Rounders.”

“A gambling double feature with lesser PTA and a Matt Damon, Ed Norton gem? It’s like my birthday.”

“You are, and I say this with all of the affection I have for you, so weird and I don’t know how I’m attracted to you sometimes.”

Lexa laughed at her girlfriend’s words and leaned forward, earning a kiss.

“I’ll take the top off the Bronco. Chinese, okay?”

“It’s a date. Make sure you get extra egg rolls. Pick me up at seven?”

“Yeah, definitely.”

Lexa tossed her trash and tucked her hands in her pockets as Clarke jingled her keys around and checked the time, realizing how late it was getting.

“Hey, earlier, you said you loved me,” Clarke cleared her throat as Lexa stood a bit closer to her. The blush came back as Clarke adjusted the bill of her hat. “Did you mean it?”

Only when Clarke put her hands on her girlfriend’s hips did Lexa melt slightly. She nodded, slowly at first and then with purpose. She had the curse of not being able to lie, and eyes that could tell Clarke about all of the words that got stuck.

“So would you say that you’re in love with me?”

“Yeah. I’d say that.”

“I kind of like that you said it with a mouth full of fries,” Clarke grinned. Lexa smiled slightly. “I kind of like that it popped out because you couldn’t hold it in.”

Clarke tugged her girlfriend’s neck and kissed her because her heart was too light and her soul was too happy to do anything else.

“I love you, too,” Clarke whispered as Lexa’s hands slid around her waist. “I don’t want candles and whatever silly things you think because you’ve seen them on a screen. Just you, being you, and me, being me.”

“You do?” Lexa breathed, her smile growing wider than allowed.

Clarke rolled her eyes and nodded, but was kissed quiet before she could answer.

XXXXXXXXX

By mid-June, there’d been a wonderful kind of routine that developed between the laziness of summer and the need to fill it up with fun and responsibilities. Lexa was nearly done with her short internship, and still buzzing with the feeling of it. Tirelessly, she made herself work for at least an hour every day on her summer project, the Aiden Documentary. She made plans and did normal summer things she’d often dreamt of. She watched her girlfriend in a bikini at the pool.

Most importantly, she perfected the list.

The Ultimate Summer List: 1. Road trip to the beach. 2. Drive-in movie 3. Concert 4. After-hours skinny dipping 5. Camping 6. Big party finale 7. Summer love 8. Something big

“This is a pretty good list,” Clarke nodded with approval as she looked it over. She stuck out her tongue as Lexa recorded her.

“I think so, yeah. We did extensive research. Now tell me, Clarke Griffin, what should we do first on the list?”

“You’ve already done the drive-in. We have a few of these already planned–”

“I mean what’s on your summer list?”

“You.”

Lexa gave her a look over her camera and rolled her eyes. It was new, the constant camera carrying, but Costia had given Lexa the advice as a documentarian to actually, you know, document. It was much different than her attempts at screenwriting and planning and storyboarding with Luna. This was very purposeful and natural, all at the same time.

“This might sound weird, but for the first time, I kind of just want to enjoy whatever the summer throws my way. Next year is colleges and planning and waiting and studying. This summer, I feel like I have my own little life. I’ve never really had that before. So I want to help you on this list. And I want to spend time reading by the pool and going to bonfires. I’m a simple girl.”

“That was a good answer.”

“I don’t think you’re allowed to say that to your subjects.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not much of a documentarian, I’m learning.”

Lexa closed the screen and put her camera down on Clarke’s desk. Her room was much different than the rest of the house. Lived in, refreshed. Bikinis dried in the bathroom sink after they spent the afternoon washing their cars in the driveway. Lunch was left on paper plates stacked on the nightstand. An effort of at least pulling out the summer homework from its place in her bag was made.

The routine that developed was really nice, Lexa realized, as she crawled over and sat beside her girlfriend. Dr. Griffin was usually at the hospital for long stretches, so Clarke’s became a default stop for Lexa. They’d play a few rounds of cards with her father sometimes before lunch, if he was feeling up to it. They’d spend the warmer part of the day hanging out, making plans. When her internship was done, Lexa would have a bit more time and be less tired, but for now, Clarke was happy enough to support her by just being chill together.

“Do you know what you should add to the list?”

“What’s that?” she asked, leaning her chin on Clarke’s shoulder.

“Girlfriend’s parent’s bbq.”

“That is a good one. It was really nice of your mom to invite my parents.”

“She’s just sizing you up is all.”

“Still not my biggest fan?” Clarke shook her head and chuckled. “I don’t understand why. I do everything right. Curfew is observed. No sneaking around. I’m polite when she’s around.”

“You have been a good influence on me.”

“I changed the oil in your truck!”

“You’re never going to win her over,” Clarke promised. “And that’s okay by me. My dad likes you a lot.”

Clarke ran her hand along Lexa’s thigh, and Lexa forgot what she should be concerned about. She was really hoping that never went away. She couldn’t imagine it. They had plans for a run after Clarke’s shift at the diner. They had plans to go swimming on Saturday. There was a date coming up, too. Lexa thought it’d be hard to have someone else be in her life, but Clarke didn’t impose. She didn’t withhold. She was just… she felt like a limb, sometimes.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” Clarke asked.

“What do you think of me?”

“Oh, I agree with my mother. You’re terrible. I should focus on my studies. You’ll–” Clarke erupted in a shriek as Lexa tickled her side, Clarke curling into herself as she slid toward the ground, trying to escape her fingers.

“You are ridiculous.”

“Yeah, well. It’s part of my charm,” Clarke managed between catching her breath.

But Clarke didn’t let Lexa sit up. In fact, she pulled her closer. Their skin was cool and shivering in the air conditioned house, fresh from the heat outside. Lexa shivered as her girlfriend’s hand ran up her side. She kissed Clarke’s neck, because when she did that, she got this noise that made her insides turn to lava. She liked the noises. Clarke made very, very good noises.

“I thought summer would have a lot more opportunities for hooking up,” Clarke murmured as she slid her hand into Lexa’s pants.

“Me too.”

It had been a week. A full week since they went camping with a dozen or so people from Clarke and Lexa’s groups, ranging from the soccer team to student government to diner coworkers. Luna declined, and Lexa accepted it well enough. Half the group hiked, most spent time on the lakefront. Everyone drank and played games, late into the night. Lexa and Clarke escaped into their tent before they got tipsy. Lexa came with Clarke’s hand over her mouth and her tongue inside of her, and that was the best camping experience she’d ever had.

“You did?”

“I mean, once I got a girlfriend and we started hooking up, it’s kind of on my mind a lot.”

Clarke smiled and kissed Lexa again. Lexa appreciated that she didn’t have to explain anything else. Or that Clarke didn’t say anything about her assumptions. Instead, Lexa pushed her hips forward, settling between Clarke’s legs and enjoying the feeling. The summer had been busy, but she was nearly back to a normal schedule. And she hoped normal meant more of this. More of–

“Clarke?”

Before they could separate, the door to her bedroom opened, and her mother was standing there, dumbfounded and looking at them. Lexa wanted to move, but she was still stunned. She knew that Clarke’s hand was in her pants, in her underwear, actually, grabbing her ass and tugging her closer. Her own right hand was under Clarke’s bra, a place it perpetually seemed to gravitate.

For what felt like an hour, they all remained stoic before Dr. Griffin turned around, eyes full of fire in the last instant Lexa saw them. The two bodies on the floor pulled apart, and Lexa tucked in her shirt for some reason, despite never doing it any other time.

“This is what you do while you’re home for summer break?” Dr. Griffin asked, back to them both still.

“Make out with my girlfriend?” Clarke tried, and Lexa shot her a look. Her cheeks had to be burning at atomic temperatures.

“I think I should head out–”

“That’s a good idea,” the mother decided, finally turning around.

“I’ll give you a ride,” Clarke offered, grabbing her bag for work. “I have to head over to work anyway soon.”

“You don’t have–”

Helplessly, Lexa tried to contribute the right things to the conversation.

“I think my daughter and I will need to have a conversation. Have a nice day, Lexa.”

“Just wait, Lex,” Clarke tried. “I can’t now, Mom. I’ll be late. I’ll talk to you later.”

“I really–”

“Clarke, I swear to God, sit down on that bed, right now.”

“I have to go,” Clarke challenged back and Lexa looked helplessly around for another exit. The windows didn’t look too bad. She’d done it before. It wasn’t a bad fall. “Let’s go, Lex.”

Seething. That was the word Lexa could think of when she looked at Dr. Griffin, though she found herself unable to do that for more than an instant. Boiling over. There might have been steam coming from her ears, and her jaw was surely going to crack under the pressure. But she moved aside and didn’t say anything else.

Clarke grabbed Lexa’s hand when they made it to the steps, and Lexa realized, unfortunately, in that moment, it might be a lot longer between hook ups yet again.

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